


Night Crawler

by Jessa



Series: Night Crawler [1]
Category: Finnrose, Reylo - Fandom, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, finnlo - Fandom, finnreylo - Fandom
Genre: Anxiety, Dom/sub, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Finnlo is only implied and only in the final chapter, Finnreylo is only implied and only in the final chapter, Force connections, Gen, NSFW, Post TLJ, Reylo - Freeform, SwoloFic, The Force, dom!kylo but he's soft, dom!rey, finnrose - Freeform, kylo and ben are personas of the same person, references to self harm (kylo/ben), reylo smut, sort of canon compliant, sub!Ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-04-28 04:29:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 81
Words: 107,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14441418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessa/pseuds/Jessa
Summary: The Resistance is hiding in the Black Forest on Kashyyyk. Night has fallen and the Rebels are all asleep on the jungle floor. All except one.Set just after TLJ.





	1. Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 1. Rey.  
> In response to 'Wounds' set by reylo-week-2018

Rey knew she'd never been a sound sleeper, but after the day's events she'd thought sleep would take her quickly tonight. She'd been wrong. She shifts her body on the hard ground below her. Chewie had said that Wroshyr leaves make soft beds.

 _Like hell they do_ , she thinks.

But it isn’t just the usual stuff - or the uncomfortable conditions - that are keeping her awake now. She can’t shake the image from her mind of Ben bowed before her as she’d closed the door of the Falcon.

Even now, as Rey stares out sleepily into the darkness, she can still see him. She blinks. Something is different though. His hair is different. It’s fresher. Not sweat-soaked from the battle…

 _Fuck,_  she thinks.

_Where are you?_

Her heart skips a beat. Thank the Maker he had the sense not to speak it out loud.

 _You know I can’t tell you that,_  she thinks back.

 _Who’s there with you?_ he thinks, glaring at her.

Why was he glaring? Because she couldn’t tell him where she was? Surely he understood that. He was just as strategic as her.

 _Who the hell do you think?_ she thinks back, more aggressively than she'd meant to. But wasn’t it obvious? She’d left with the Resistance. He  _knew_  that.

She sees him close his eyes and notes how this softens the frown on his face. It looks to her as though he’s trying to calm down and start over.

 _Are the Rebels around you now?_  he re-phrases.

_Yes. What about you? Who’s around you? Where are you?_

_Where do you think?_

She rolls her eyes.

 _Okay, now we’re even,_  she thinks.  _So, what do you want?_

_Just to talk. Can you come here?_

_You definitely can’t come here._

_I know,_ he thinks back.  _Come here. Please._

Rey chews her lower lip, mulling it over. There are several things wrong with this potential scenario but she knows he is stuck in her head. She hasn’t forgotten the feel of his touch back on Ahch-To and maybe neither has he.

She supposes she could Force-project to him. To any Rebel looking it would just look like she was sleeping, or at least that’s what she  _thought_  it would look like. She really had no idea. And it troubled her somewhat.

“Okay,” she whispers.  _Give me a minute._

She closes her eyes and reaches out through the Force. She senses for him and when she finds him she imagines herself in his surroundings. When she opens her eyes, she’s still lying in the same position - as is he - but she’s clearly inside a ship now. And the surface below her feels soft.

 _This is a real bed,_ Rey thinks.

“These are my chambers,” Ben says softly. “No one can enter. We won’t be disturbed.”

She squirms. 

 _Holy shit, his bedroom,_ she thinks before she remembers he can probably still hear her thoughts.

She squirms again, suddenly realizing that she only went to bed in her underclothes and the air on the warship is a lot colder than the air in the jungle on Kashyyyk.

“Are you cold?” Ben asks. 

Rey notices that he’s not exactly trying to avert his gaze from her body. Not that  _she’s_  one to talk, as she suddenly realizes her own eyes are raking over his bare chest. 

The idea that he can see her in less than she’d like is suddenly  _very_  appealing. Plus she likes the way he’s looking at her. She likes it  _a lot,_  and she’s not sure she wants it to stop.

“I think I’m okay,” she says.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmurs. “I can’t get you out of my head.”

Her heart skips another beat.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” she admits.

Unable to help herself, she moves her hand ever so slightly to his chest and with the back of her fingers she brushes the scar there. The permanent mark left by the wound she gave him.

“I’m sorry, Ben.”

Gently he takes her hand and lifts it to the scar at his face. She traces it with her fingertips and somehow her thumb finds its way to his mouth. Ever so lightly she brushes it along the soft skin of his lower lip. He kisses it ever so softly.

Her heart nearly stops. She is barely breathing. 

Ben kisses her thumb again. His eyes are like liquid obsidian. He is so beautiful to her now and before she knows what she’s doing her mouth is at his. She kisses him once there, slowly, and then draws herself away, just as slowly. 

 _What the fuck are you doing?_  she thinks.  _Stop it. Now._

But she can’t.

Rey does it again and this time she feels him softly return her single, close-mouthed kiss. They gaze at each other for minutes. Then she kisses him a third time, and this time when he returns her kiss he opens his mouth. 

She closes her eyes and feels his jaw undulate softly. 

 _Pull yourself away,_  she thinks.

But, again, she can’t. 

Ben’s lips are soft against her own. His open mouth is warm and his tongue tastes delicious as she presses hers against it. Before she knows what she’s doing she’s beginning to mount him, as his arms wrap themselves around her semi-naked back and his hands begin to work their way beneath the fabric of her upper undergarments.

 _Fucking do it now,_  she thinks.  _Pull yourself away._

Rey can feel his kiss grow more urgent as he touches more and more of her skin. Her nipples stiffen as he fondles her breast with one hand and slides the other down her back and below the fabric of her lower garments, to the curve of her arse and further. 

 _I’m so wet,_ she thinks.

 _I know,_  he thinks back, as he presses his groin to her hips and she feels how hard he’s getting beneath his light clothing.

 _I can’t do this now, Ben,_  she thinks, as still they continue to kiss. As he continues to fondle her curves and she clutches at his face and the nape of his neck. Wanting him. Wanting to be around him. Wanting to consume him. 

With a final desperate effort, she breaks her mouth away and hears him moan softly.

“I  _can’t_ ,” she breathes heavily. “They’ll  _see_.”

She looks desperately into his wide eyes. Still so black, still so beautiful. And hungry for her. She can see it written across his face and feel it throbbing between her legs.

Again they gaze at each other for minutes, breathing heavily and still grinding.

Rey brings her mouth back to his chest. She kisses the mark at his left shoulder. 

 _You,_ she thinks.

Rey runs her tongue along the long mark across his right shoulder.

 _Are,_ she thinks again.

Rey kisses the scar on his cheek.

 _Mine,_ she thinks for a final time before she places her mouth to his and kisses once more.

 _And I won’t wound you again,_  she thinks, as she disappears back to Kashyyyk.


	2. Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 2. Ben.   
> 'Soulmates' challenge from @reylo-week-2018

It was earlier than last night. He didn’t think she’d be ready, but he was eager to see her again. Nervous. He didn’t reach out through their bond to her. Instead he waited and grew more anxious as time passed and her night grew later. What if she hadn’t meant what she’d said? What if she’d decided that what she’d done really was wrong? Really was so bad? That she’d made a mistake? That he was the enemy? That she hadn’t forgiven him for what he’d done to his father, and to her friends. That he was still just a monster.

Ben lies in his bed and grows more and more anxious, and angry at her. 

_Prick tease. Whore. Bitch._

_Ben._

He feels a pull in the pit of his stomach. She hasn’t forgotten him at all.

 _It’s late_ , he thinks.

_Sorry._

_You really want to do this?_

_Yes._

Through their bond he can see her, still in her surroundings.

_You’ve changed your hair._

_I washed it,_ he hears her think back.  _It’s wet._

Ben smiles.

_Are you?_

Rey blushes.

_Maybe I won’t come. If you’re just going to tease me._

_You’ll come,_ he thinks. _I promise._

Her blush deepens.

 _Come here,_  he repeats.

Ben can smell her before he can see her appear. The scent is floral. Probably something on Kashyyyk that she’d found to wash with. He remembers what she’d said about her hair. Washing it.

“Why’d you leave?” he whispers.

Why is he whispering? There is no one else here and besides, his chambers only open to him and not even Hux can override that. Ben supposes it’s partly because he’s nervous both for what _could_ happen, now that she’s here again in his room, but also what she might think about it. He knows she hadn’t been sure the first time and he can sense this hasn’t changed in her.

Rey sighs but doesn’t answer and Ben grows more anxious.

“Why’d you leave?” he whispers again.

“I don’t know,” she says quietly. “I just… needed some space.”

“Space?” Ben replies, thinking. “But, you were _in_ _space_.”

She rolls her eyes at this, but he can also see that now she is smiling and he can feel the unease in her lessen slightly. He takes it as a chance.

“I missed you,” he breathes.

“I don’t want to stay here,” she says.

The breath in Ben’s throat catches and his stomach churns.

_Fuck._

But she isn’t looking at him now. She is staring into his bedding.

“Rey?”

She says nothing further. Her mouth twitches and he can see the frown. Through their bond he can feel her conflict. He doesn’t want to keep her here unwilling.

“You _do_ want to leave.”

Still she says nothing but her wide hazel eyes return to his. He can’t resist them, or the thoughts that lie behind them.

“You can go,” he says softly.

In her eyes he can see the shock unfold at his words. She had expected him to beg her to stay. Ben clarifies.

“You can go if you _want_.”

“I don’t know what I want, Ben.”

“ _I_ want you to stay, but not if you’d rather be with them.”

“ _I_ want you to come _with_ me,” she whispers.

“What?”

“I want you to come _with_ me,” Rey repeats.

“Rey,” he says, saddened. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Not for long,” she murmurs, leaning in to him. “Just quickly. Like _I_ did last night.”

_Fuck. Lean back. And don’t say it._

“Please, Ben.”

_Makerfuckingdamnit._

“Okay,” he says shakily, as he sees her smile.

Ben knows he can’t resist her and even though it’s against his better judgement he can’t help but mirror the way she’s leaning in to him. But then Rey closes her eyes and is gone and with a heavy sigh Ben follows her through the bond.

He can sense the system, then the planet and its life forms. Finally, heart thumping, he can sense the Resistance and then Rey, the only one of them awake and on a patch of ground concealed in a thicket of Wroshyrs.

 _Low vis_ , he thinks. _Safe enough. If we’re silent._

Ben feels first: the steamy heat of the jungle against the bare skin of his upper body. When he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the darkness, which silhouettes everything. As his eyes adjust to the low light he realizes Rey is lying next to him, just as they’d been in his room, and that she is looking up. He rolls onto his back and looks there too. The night sky is clear and full of stars.

 _It’s nice here,_ he thinks to her through the bond as he turns his head toward her own, watching it now in profile. _The ground’s really hard though._

 _Yeah_ , she thinks back, smiling slightly. _I have trouble sleeping here. Well, I have trouble sleeping everywhere, actually, but here, definitely._

Ben turns his face back to the stars.

_Reminds me of camping._

_Camping?_

_Yeah. I sometimes used to go with my father._

Beside him, Ben feels Rey wriggle herself around to face him. He doesn’t turn to look at her. The comment about his father had slipped out without him meaning for it too. He didn’t want to talk about this now. He feels Rey reach for his hand and hold it. At her touch, Ben feels his stomach tighten. He breathes deeply, not wanting the feeling to reach his cock. Not here, surrounded by a bunch of fucking Rebels. Carefully, he keeps the thought close, not wanting it to reach her.

Ben feels Rey snuggle her head to the nook that his pec makes with his upper chest and rest her cheek there. He breathes out shakily. He feels her bring their clasped hands to her mouth. She kisses his fingers. The crown of her head is just below his chin. He can’t help but tilt his face toward it and breathe in the scent of her hair. Floral, like Kashyyyk.

He knows that it isn’t just physical closeness he craves from Rey, or a carnal desire to bring her so close to him he can’t tell where he ends and she begins. To let her physically consume him. And he knows it’s not just his desperate want to wrap himself so tight around her he could crush her and yet somehow still protect her.

Ben knows he needs what’s emotional between them. The longing to be connected _inside_ to her and not just if he were to fuck her but to respond to what he feels that his soul wants to do to her, which is to continually find her own and not let it go. Not let _her_ go. Not let her disappear once more into the night, leaving his arms holding nothing but air.

And before he can stop them, these thoughts drift to Rey. Ashamed, he tries to tug them back but it’s too late. She knows them now.

 _Please stay with me_ , she thinks, as he closes his eyes and breathes her scent in once more. _Just for a few more minutes._

But he knows he’s gone too far. This is not the place for what she wants from him now and to stay would be to put her in danger if a Rebel were to find them. When next she opens her eyes, he will be gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Get in touch here or on tumblr @jesssssah


	3. Hands On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 3. Part 1 of 7. Rey.

She can still see the silhouette of Chewie. The air tonight is steamy and through the warm mist she watches his distinctive back, still reclining in profile against the Wroshyr he’s slept under for the past two nights. Still awake. Still aware.

The trees where Rey had relocated after the first night definitely provided a kind of camouflage. But does tonight’s foggy vapor conceal her enough here that Chewie’s view is sufficiently obscured should Ben turn up? Movement has a way of attracting the eye…

Rey wonders if she should try to reach out to Ben.

 _No,_ she thinks to herself, firmly, and for not the first time tonight.  _Fuck him. I asked him to stay and he fucking left. Fuck him._

It would do Ben good to be ignored for a while.

She wonders again where he is and what he’s doing. Is he in his chambers? Or is he engaged somewhere else? Are they on some planet tonight? Perhaps they are raiding something. Although even if they are, she doubts Ben will be on the ground now that he’s ascended. It is far more likely that the First Order will insist he stay put somewhere and send Hux instead if they really need something more than just a Captain or a Commander.

Rey wonders how Ben is feeling, if this really is what’s going on now. He is a warrior after all, not a bureaucrat. Hands on.

_Hands on, huh?_

Rey sucks at her lower lip.

 _Where are you?_  she thinks, as his image begins to slowly overlay the space on the makeshift pillow in front of her.

_You were right the first time._

_Chambers?_

_Yes,_  he thinks back.  _You’re upset._

_Yes._

_At me._

_Yes._

_For leaving, right?_

_Yes._

_Rey, I had to._

_You didn’t._

_Of course I fucking did. You wanna get caught out? Labelled a traitor? Tried for desertion?_

_It wouldn’t be desertion._

_No? A Rebel fucking the Supreme Leader is not a desertion?_

_I haven’t fucked you._

_Not yet._

_Fuck you, Ben, I am not fighting you through a Force-connection._

She rolls over so she doesn’t have to see him anymore.

Then after a time she feels his hand gently make its way over her hip and slink around her waist, almost as though it were pretending not to exist. Making out as though this wasn’t happening. Wasn’t real, just a dream.

But Rey knows it’s just as real as what they’d done two nights ago and that try as he might Ben can’t keep himself away from her any more easily than she can do the reverse.

She lets him keep his hand where it is.

From here she can no longer see Chewie. This makes her nervous. Is he still awake? Or has he bedded down? She would prefer he stayed within sight. She supposes she can sense for his position, and state of consciousness, but Ben’s steady touch at her belly makes her doubt her instincts to do anything else but sense Ben. As well as his instincts.

Rey feels a slight pressure from his hand and warmth at her back. Ben has pressed himself to her body and is tucking his thighs under her own, spooning her.

Rey sighs out in frustration, horny and bothered.

 _Must you?_ she thinks.

“Hands on,” he whispers in her ear.

They lie pressed together like this for some time. She can feel his light breath against the skin behind her ear. At first, she had attempted to block his thoughts out but time has made her curious. She can hear the want in his head to bring his lips to her skin. To take her lobe in his mouth and gently suck and bite it. She wriggles.

“Don’t _do_ that,” he whispers.

 _Don’t do what?_  she thinks back, too far from his own ear to whisper into it.

“Fucking _rub_ yourself against me,” he whispers.

 _I wasn’t,_ she thinks back, annoyed again. _I was just… wriggling._

“Yeah, _rubbing_ yourself against me,” he breathes, again into her ear.

Rey rolls over.

“Is _this_ better?” she whispers, gazing up into his eyes.

They are hooded. She can tell he is as horny as her. Now she understands what he meant and she drops her gaze, a flush beginning in her cheeks. She stares at his bare chest.

“If you don’t want me to…,” she starts softly, “Then why do you keep turning up in next to fucking nothing?”

“It’s hot here,” he breathes, looking at her mouth.

“It’s not _that_ hot,” she breathes in response, still staring at his bare chest.

She raises her gaze slightly higher to his lips, avoiding his eyes. Mildly embarrassed but mostly still aroused and not wanting to meet his stare again for fear of what she might do. She has not forgotten the first night this happened, when she’d barely been able to stop.

But tonight will be different. If he is here, she knows he won’t want to. He’d made that clear last night. If he is here, she knows nothing will happen. They will just do this, whatever _this_ is. Something? Nothing?

“Come back with me,” he whispers.

“No,” she whispers back, looking up to meet his eyes.

In her peripheral vision Rey can see Chewie again, still propped against the Wroshyr with his back to them. It comforts her slightly. He seems to have shifted further around the tree so that she can no longer see him in profile. The chance of him catching any movement from their direction is now much less than earlier. Still, Rey knows Ben is adamant. He won’t do anything here. But the same will not go for _there._

“Please,” Ben whispers again, leaning in to her.

She can’t help but lean forward to meet him, feeling the edges of her lips brush his and then dropping her head so that instead he is softly rubbing his lower lip to her forehead.

“Please come back with me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompts. Just had an itch I needed to scratch.


	4. Mistress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 3. Part 2 of 7. Ben.

“Are you _begging?”_ she murmurs, shifting her head across – underneath his jaw – and nuzzling up his neck to whisper the final word in his ear.

Ben feels Rey pull herself away then – slowly – before watching as a cunning smile spreads like a shadow from her hazel eyes to the corners of her open mouth, on which his gaze still centers.

He is already nervous. Staying here for any length of time with her is definitely still against his better judgement, no matter how obscured they may be by the precipitation in the planet’s air right now, the tree cover, or the deep black of the night.

But Ben can also clearly still sense _her_ apprehension, too. He knows she is warily watching the Wookiee over his own bare shoulder as he lies here on his side with her in his arms, the pair of them minimally clothed.

Ben longs to unfasten her upper garments. At the thought of it, he feels a thrill run its way down the center of his chest and to his stomach as he imagines the fabric – gliding away from her in one of his hands – as in his mind the other cups one of her soft breasts before he brings his mouth down toward it…

“You can beg better than that,” she breathes, breaking his trance, _“Supreme Leader.”_

Ben feels his heart expand as the thrill that’s travelling from his chest to his stomach reaches his cock. Had she really just called him that? He knew she’d sensed his ascension already but also that she hadn’t yet really acknowledged it. He’d thought she’d been disgusted by it. By him. By his continued allegiance to a militaristic and tyrannical regime that he knew she despised. After all, wasn’t that why she’d said no to him, time and time again? Even on the first night of this – whatever this was – she’d stopped it.

So, what has changed now? He longs to ask her this but his mind is still too full of the thought of her body against him to think rationally. Is hers?

His hand currently rests in the cinch of her waist, just above the curve of her hip. As he feels her wriggle in closer to him he can’t help but shift the hand further round her, to the curve of her arse. Again, he can’t help but think back to when they’d first done this two nights ago. She’d been so wet then…

Ben feels her mouth brush almost imperceptibly against his own.

“Did I give you permission to do that?” she whispers.

“To do what?” he whispers back, feeling the contact between the skin of their lips increase slightly with each murmured word.

“First, you beg me without permission,” she says, very softly, and still with the same sly smile. “Now, you touch me without it…”

Ben stares at her, mouth slack. He feels his cock twitch as she bores her gaze into him, not knowing what to say next. She has a way of completely disarming him without any need of weapons. With just the use of her eyes. Her fury has left him defenseless before and now here it is emerging again. Or is it? What the fuck is this anyway? A reprimand or a come-on? Perhaps it's both?

She brushes her lips along his once more. It's clear to Ben that she’s enjoying how passive whatever she’s doing is leaving him and if he’s honest, he’s enjoying it just as much. Perhaps more.

“Ben?” she prompts, barely above a whisper, as she continues to brush along his lips with her own. “You need to ask my permission for _that,_ too.”

“To _enjoy_ it?” he breathes, feeling his stomach flip and the warm feeling it brings to his lower body start to spread to his hips as he shifts them.

“That’s right,” she murmurs.

Ben can definitely feel his cock now. She's pressed so close against him, and as he also feels it stiffening she seems to be even closer. Is she pressing back? Can she feel him? Can she feel how hard this is making him? Is that why she’s doing this? Has she definitely changed her mind now and does she therefore wholly want him after all?

She falls silent, still pressed tight. He can still feel her lips brushing at him and her hips softly grinding a gentle rhythm. He senses this is instinct. Just as she’d done the first night, she's having trouble stopping. Her body wants something but her mind is still torn. He knows it. She hasn’t yet changed it. But she still hasn’t ruled him out completely.

Ben shifts his gaze over and around what’s before him, in appraisal of her again. Her eyes, hooded and honed in on his own. Her mouth, softly moving across his lower lip. The yielding curves of her chest, still hidden below the gauze of what he's always felt was a pretty fucking flimsy excuse for a garment, pressed against the firm muscles of his own. And the skin of her neck and upper body, bare and lightly scattered with freckles that he longs to lick long lines between with his tongue...

 _Well?_ she thinks, as he feels her close her mouth softly over the very generous lower lip she’s been brushing against for the past few minutes.

His eyes flicker at this and he breathes in coarsely, shifting his hips again and feeling his cock begin to lengthen. It concerns him just how much he’s letting her affect his body now. He thought he’d be safe from it here. But the longer he stays the more dangerously reassured he feels. That no one has seen them. That no one has heard them whispering nothings in the night. And that the darkness shrouding them should rightly increase his confidence; that the place she's chosen to bed down in is in fact sufficiently distant from the main Rebel camp, enough to mask any sounds that might slip from them, as well as sufficiently hide them from the sight of suspicious eyes.

And at last she seems to be glancing less and less over his shoulder now at the Wookiee. Is she – like him – growing in confidence, too?

So, it’s Ben who breaks first. Closing his mouth around hers, he returns her furtive kiss with his own certain one before bringing his lips in to her neck and then nuzzling up it, following the scent he’s begun to detect drifting from just behind her ear, and that he longs for more of.

 _“Mistress,”_ he breathes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a plan, but plot requests are also welcome if you've got any!


	5. Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 3. Part 3 of 7. Rey.

Breath caught in her throat, Rey arches her neck and feels his soft lips make contact with the skin just behind her ear. His single, whispered word echoes in the night air.

_Mistress._

She’s vaguely aware of her body, still grinding away gently at his hips. Her chest is pressed closer than it was before. Before he’d whispered how she thinks he wants to think about her now.

After all, that _was_ what he’d meant it to mean, wasn’t it? That word? That was – is - what he wants her to be to him now? Who he wants her to be? That word is a sign – a signal – for how he wants her to treat him. Right? Even though she’d started it. Or had she? Is she wrong? But hadn’t it actually been _Ben_ who’d pleaded first? And so, is she therefore entirely right to think all this of him? No hesitation. She thinks his use of that word has been no accident and that this _is_ what he wants from her now – for her to be his Mistress.

Rey knows they’d both pleaded with each other before these most recent visits had somehow started again two nights ago. Is this therefore something they both want, and have been wanting for some time? Some sort of power dynamic to play out again between them? And if so, could it even be that from the moment she’d first seen him she’d wanted something like this to happen again? Some sort of power trip of her own? To even up an imbalance? To have some sort of psychological sway over him?

“That’s better,” she breathes.

Rey senses that now she’s broken his resolve. Before this he’d been resolute. He’d left her last night, refusing to bow to her request to stay. And now here he was calling her by a name – a title – that left him subordinate.

Rey feels her heart skip.

And then, remembering Chewie, she pulls her head back quickly as she hears Ben softly moan in protest when his mouth is forced to leave her neck while she glances over his bare shoulder. Her stomach churns. No longer can she see Chewie’s back propped against the tree.

 _Fuck,_ she thinks as she flattens Ben against the ground and dips her head to him, cheek hovering just above his bare pecs as her eyes dart from one edge of the jungle scape ahead of her to the other, searching for the characteristic form of Chewie.

 _What?_ Ben thinks back.

_He’s fucking gone._

_What?_

_Don’t you go, too._

_Are you fucking kidding me?_

_No._

_He’s fucking seen us._

_You don’t know that._

_Then where the fuck is he?_

_Not here. Somewhere else. Stay._

Below her, Rey can feel every muscle in Ben prepare to bolt. She can feel the fear radiating from him through the bond and sense his instinct to vanish.

_Fucking stay, Ben._

His breath comes in quick, light bursts. Nervous and shallow.

_Ben?_

Taking a chance, she shifts her head only just enough so that she can make eye contact with him.

 _Ben_ , she warns, still sensing his strong impulse to flee.

She watches as his eyes flicker anxiously and feels his chest inhale a mighty breath as he tries to calm himself. And even though she can virtually hear the instincts in him telling him to do otherwise, he doesn’t break eye contact with her. He doesn’t leave.

_Ben._

_Yes?_

_Stay_.

And it’s not a plea. It’s an order.

_Yes._

_Yes, Mistress, she thinks._

“Yes, Mistress,” he murmurs.

_Don’t fucking say it._

With her eyes still on him, she watches as a very faint smile curls the corners of his mouth.

_Did you do that on purpose?_

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs again. “Mistress.”

_Fucking stop it or I swear to the Maker I won’t wait for Rebels. I’ll fucking kill you myself._

He _did_ do it on purpose. She knows it. And she knows he can sense that she knows it. He’s enjoying her rising fury at him and as she feels him harden below her hips she can feel just how much he’s liking it.

Feeling her face flush, as well as the same ache she’d felt two nights ago for him begin again between her thighs, she shakes her head slightly. Had he just _apologized_ to her?

As she continues to stare deep into his dark eyes – wondering if she’s ever heard him say _that_ before – she listens to the ambient sounds of the jungle around them as vaguely she can still feel herself softly grinding against him.

Rey can’t hear any heavy movement around them. No rustle of leaves or fabrics, and nothing snapping across the ground cover as though someone were moving above it. If Chewie is on his feet, he’s stopped somewhere. Is he watching them now? Has he heard them? Reaching out through the Force she tries to sense for him.

“He’s not here, Rey,” Ben murmurs softly, eyes still fixed on her own. “ _Mistress._ He’s on the other side of the jungle.”

Rey glares at him. Two things bother her about his rude interjection. The first is that he is quicker at sensing than she is. She supposes he’s had more experience at it, as well as more training. If he knew this, why hadn’t he just fucking told her in the first place? Is he leading her on? Is he teasing?

“No,” he murmurs. “I’m not teasing. I only just sensed it.”

 _Mistress,_ she thinks.

“Mistress,” he murmurs.

The second is that he’s intruding on her thoughts without asking.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “Mistress.”

She feels her heart expand as she watches his eyes. He means it this time. She can see it.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” she murmurs, knowing it’s a redundant question but wanting to ask it anyway. Liking it. Liking the thought of him on the end of a string. Or maybe a leash.

“You have to trust me,” he breathes, shifting his hips below her and propelling his jaw just enough toward her so that she can read it as a sign he wants her closer.

She lifts her head to him. As he shifts his hips below her again she feels the hard length of his cock jutting into her lower belly. She can tell he’s uncomfortable. She knows where he’d rather it be.

“Can I…?” he starts, breathily, as she feels his hand hover over her thigh, wanting to shift that too.

“Apologize to me again,” she breathes, as she begins to brush his lips once more with her own.


	6. Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 3. Part 4 of 7. Ben.  
> In response to the 'food' challenge set by @two-halves-of-reylo this week.

* * *

Fuck this. He’s had enough. Ben kisses her, lifting his head off the scrunched stuff he knows she thinks of as a pillow to thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. He can feel her shock. Can feel her body devour his energy at first before attempting to kick back against him, but it’s only out of habit; trying once again to stop herself from liking this even though he already knows she wants him, and also knows he’s physically stronger than her. And both these thoughts make the fire in Ben burn for Rey all the more intensely now.

He continues to knead her mouth with his own as he feels her body relax into his – craving him. She absorbs his kiss; she wants that, too. He takes her thigh in his hand and lifts it, opening her. She moans into his mouth as he shifts his hips below, steadying her above him with both hands, his mind fixed on one thing; he _will_ enter her.

And then they both freeze.

_Listen._

A steady sound is growing nearer through the jungle. Heavy footfalls, and a drag. The sound of ground cover flattening below a weight, as though being heaved.

 _What the fuck is that?_ he hears her think as she tries to pull away.

He holds on.

 _Stop it, Ben,_ she adds, as he feels her try again to break their kiss.

He can’t refuse her direct request. He cares too much about her now.

_Mistress._

Willfully he lets her go – cock aching nonetheless – and opens his eyes a fraction. Through his narrowed vision he watches her pull herself away and lift her head in the direction of the noise. The cool night air slips along the space that forms between them and he yearns for her to press her warmth down against him again. The jungle is growing colder. Still not as cold as the air on the warship and Ben knows for certain now that he’d prefer to be here, with her, than there.

 _Chewie’s back,_ she thinks, as Rey’s eyes meet Ben’s again for a moment before flicking away once more.

Reluctantly returning his thoughts to their immediate predicament – potentially getting caught out together in the middle of the Rebel’s makeshift camp where they all hide at the heart of the Black Forest on Kashyyyk – Ben reaches out through the Force. He can sense the Wookiee now, hauling a partial Bantha carcass across the jungle floor. Ben wrinkles his nose and Rey senses it.

“What?” she whispers, as now Chewie emerges from a cluster of trees, about a hundred meters away, moving slowly and with something large trailing the ground behind him, which he now heaves into the air and slings over one of his sizeable shoulders.

“Bantha,” Ben murmurs.

Rey frowns. “In the _jungle?_ Aren’t they native to _desert_ planets?”

 _“Kashyyyk_ Bantha,” he says softly, sighing.

She’s frowning at him again, an expression which has, and always will, completely slay him.

“Wookiee’s eat them,” he adds vaguely, still captivated by the intensity of the gaze shaping her eyes now. “They’re okay.”

Ben continues to watch her. Rey’s head is dipped low again to him. Her body is closer and the gap between them has lessened because of this, blocking most of the colder air from shooting down his chest so that now he can feel her warmth again, radiating from her own chest, still covered by her light garment. He can smell her hair, which falls loosely across her shoulders. It smells of the same floral scent he’d detected the second night she’d Force-projected to him in his room on the warship, and which he now associates with her.

“It’s _enormous,”_ she breathes, staring out into the darkened jungle again.

Ben smiles and feels his stomach flip as a thought he can’t help emerges and he flicks it to her. He sees her blush as her eyes dart again to his.

“I meant the _carcass,”_ she adds wryly, as she dips her face closer and brushes her lips against his own.

 _Sure you did,_ Ben thinks back slyly, nuzzling her cheek.

“Why the fuck is he doing this in the middle of the night?” Rey asks softly, returning her gaze once more to Chewie.

It’s a fair question. Ben wonders about it too. It’s possible that the Wookiee had already hunted earlier that day. After all, the Resistance had to eat something. Ben knew that Bantha were herd animals. This one had probably grazed late in the afternoon, perhaps in a clear area of forest where there may have been grasses. That was a probable scenario. And Ben knew they were passive creatures. It would have been an easy kill; an easy target for a poisoned dart or arrow. Maybe he’d returned now to cleave it. Ben guessed it would be easier to move it in pieces, rather than drag the whole thing. What the Wookiee was dragging was definitely not a full-sized Bantha, though, so maybe he’d cleaved it straight away and then buried it to collect later. That was more likely. To prevent the meat from going bad.

It had been a long time since Ben had thought about pragmatic stuff like where his food came from. The First Order provided everything, as long as you gave them the same in return. There’d been times in his youth when his father had tried to take him out to do stuff like hunting. It had never gone well. It had always resulted in Han deciding instead to wheel a deal with someone he knew on whatever planet they’d been on and smuggle something instead. He remembered something his father had said once about things being worth more alive than dead. Had that been his father? Or had that been someone else?

Ben can feel Rey’s eyes on him again. It breaks his reverie. He looks up at her and she smiles softly back at him, sensing his thoughts but staying quiet, as though waiting for Ben to offer something. Or waiting to see if he would. Last night he’d mentioned his father to her. He’d never done that before and it had ashamed him. Did he want to now? Was he ready to talk about it? What would she think? Would the mention of him upset her? Would it mean she’d ask him to leave? Ben didn’t want that. He wanted to stay here with her.

He feels her nuzzle his cheek again with her own. Is she coaxing him? Is she coaxing the thought from him? Ben doesn’t know. His tongue feels tied. He wants to say something but his body won’t move. And as though she can sense it she starts to speak in whispered tones about something else. The opposite of dying and death. Eating. Food.

“I can’t imagine how you’re meant to even _cook_ one of those, let alone _eat_ it.”

“They’re okay,” he repeats, keeping his voice soft in a mirror of hers. “My father used to call Bantha a ‘safe’ food.”

“Safe?”

“Yeah,” he adds, quietly. “Wookiee food is all really spicy, but Bantha’s cooked without it.”

“You’ve tried it?”

“Yeah,” he says, taking a deep breath. “He made it for us once. Bantha steak.”

Ben pauses, feeling her cheek still brushing softly against his own, giving him comfort. Reassuring him. Making Ben feel like at last he could say it. Like at last he could talk about it again. The death of his father. And the memories he’d been trying to repress in his head ever since he’d done what he had on Starkiller Base.

“He made it for me and my father,” Ben murmurs, blinking back tears.


	7. Petrichor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 3. Part 5 of 7. Rey.

Of course. Rey probably should have known. Well maybe not _known_ but at the very least been able to put the basic components of it together. She had a healthier degree of nous than most after all, didn’t she?

 _Nerf herder,_ she thinks to herself.

But she also honestly had not expected this.

She looks at Ben. His gaze is averted. He seems to have fixed it on a point in the distant dark of the jungle. She can see the soft profile of his jaw and the regal shape of his nose as its bridge meets his brow.

Rey should have known better than to draw Ben’s attention to Chewie. How could she have been so fucking stupid? So insensitive? And just when she’d felt like maybe there was something really emerging now between them. Something beginning to really happen. Something that explained why she’d always felt so close to and yet infuriated by him. Something more than just annoyance or even – dare she think it – lust, she supposed, if she truthfully thought about what was really going on here. How physically close they were now. How much he made her ache. And how much she obviously kept affecting him. He was here after all, wrapped around her and wearing only lower undergarments. Risking death if a Rebel were to find them. If Chewie were to see them. Had he already?

Rey realizes too that not only has Ben not processed recent events - including the death of his father - but neither has she. The Resistance knew Han was dead, but they knew nothing of Snoke, nothing of Ben’s ascension, and certainly nothing of her role in it. Apart from herself, everyone else who knew the truth about what happened on the Supremacy in those final moments before she’d fled was dead, except for Ben. And this was a secret they were now keeping, along with what they were now doing.

Rey shifts her body slightly, giving Ben room to move out from below her if he wants to. She can see the tears he still blinks back in the starlight that’s beginning to lighten their surroundings as the warm vapor in the air clears and the constellations in the star system directly overhead become visible from their secluded spot on the floor of the forest.

The temperature continues to drop. Rey can feel the chill growing. She snuggles in closer to Ben’s body and he pulls her firmly against him. Is he cold too? It’s hard to imagine. He always feels so warm to her.

Should she say something to him now? Or just let him be? Rey presses her cheek closer to Ben’s upper chest and breathes him in. He smells familiarly earthy, but somehow also different in the cooling air. Like what she’d smelled on Takodana when Han had taken her and Finn there. What _was_ that smell? Like plants after rain? Or just before it?

“Petrichor,” he murmurs, nuzzling her. “I remember that smell, too.”

Rey wriggles her body further up his chest so she can look directly across at him, resting her head against the scrunched pillow.

“No, come closer,” he says softly, pulling her back to him. “Please.”

She adjusts so that her body presses down on his now, with one thigh across his warm abdomen.

“Is that better?” she asks quietly, as she brushes her nose against his cheek.

“Much,” he whispers. “It’s getting cold.”

“Do you want to go?”

“No, just stay where you are. This is warm. And you’re close. It’s good.”

Rey gives him a knowing smile and then watches his eyes lighten slightly. She feels his warm palm slink its way from the small of her back down to the curve of her arse and then down further along the outside of her thigh.

“You’re so soft,” he breathes, as he begins to slowly run the palm back up the path it just travelled and then sneak its way underneath the gauze of her upper undergarment.

Rey closes her eyes and breathes out. It feels so good when he does this to her skin. It makes her wriggle, wanting to increase what’s building between her thighs and the movement makes her aware of her nipples as they begin to respond to the pleasure in her growing because of nothing else but Ben’s touch.

She knows he senses her arousal, and that what he’s doing is that irresistible kind of thing he was doing the first night they’d been together like this when she had barely been able to stop. Was that still bad? That she didn’t want to stop? Did she want it to stop again now? Because was it even more dangerous now, that they knew Chewie was awake and moving around the camp? Where was he, anyway? She couldn’t hear him, and the absence of the sounds he was making earlier as he’d hauled in the Bantha carcass made her nervous. At least when they could hear him, they’d known where he was.

Rey feels Ben bring his palm further around her chest to cup the soft flesh of one of her breasts; somehow, he’s managed to work his hand so that as he’s done this he’s lifted the gauze above the curves of her. She feels a rush of cool air hit her chest before he closes his palm over the one breast he can see, the other still pressed firmly to his own chest.

Rey inhales shakily as she feels him begin to rub the center of his palm against the hardening point of her nipple, knowing that although it’s cold it’s not this but his touch that’s causing it to stiffen. As she watches him, eyes wide now and clear of the tears that had moments ago clouded them, Rey feels Ben continue to knead her rhythmically with his hand as she brings her face down to his mouth and kisses him deeply.

 _Do you want me to stop?_ she hears him think. _Mistress?_

Rey presses harder against him with her mouth, opening it further and feeling her tongue run its way underneath Ben’s. She grinds her hips against him, wanting to not just feel but purposefully rub herself against the bulge of his cock. If this doesn’t answer his question, she doesn’t know what will. Apart from perhaps taking the hand that is still kneading her breast and forcing it down and around the back of her, to slip underneath her light, lower garment and find her sex from behind as he’d done the first night.

Rey can think of nothing else but this. Not even her worry at the absence of forewarning sounds around them. Nothing else but how his fingers had made her feel when he’d dipped them into her two nights ago – just far enough inside to know how wet she’d been then – and how much she wants him to do that again to her right now.

And she definitely doesn’t want him to stop.

 _No,_ she thinks back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh, I am so addicted to writing this!


	8. To Just Fucking Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 3. Part 6 of 7. Ben.

He knows what she wants him to do. Her thoughts unfurl in his mind as clearly as they do in hers. The touchpoints between them become almost too numerous to count as they writhe below a Kashyyyk sky that is still alight with stars, although Ben is blind to all of them, seeing only one thing in his mind; the path she has asked him to take with his hand from the soft curves of her chest to those much further below.

As his obedient hand follows the lissome contours down her flank and over her hip, Ben’s palm sneaks its way below the gauze of her lower undergarment and comes to rest in a curve around her arse before pausing to linger on the warmth of her there. Pausing to listen again to what she wants. Pausing to feel her hips rock gently beneath and above him as she rubs herself more urgently against his cock, which is lengthening with every move she makes.

 _Ben_ , she beckons, as she shows him again – through the bond – the point where she wants him to stop. Or should that be start?

Taking his time, he shifts his hand along the warm skin of her, lowering the gauze now to partially expose her, until his fingers slip between the back of her upper thighs. He feels her lift her hips and raise one thigh slightly higher on his own hip, stretching herself only enough so he can enter just below the plush folds of her, to touch her silken center with the tips of two of his long fingers. She moans softly into his mouth as he uses the bond again to make her know how warm and slick she is there, and how much he wants to go further.

 _Please,_ she thinks desperately.

He wants to fuck her. He wants it so much. He wants her flat on her back below him, her ankles around his neck, and then he wants to sink himself inside her, up to his balls, over and over again. But there is way too much starlight for that. He would be seen and then so would she and they’d both be as good as dead.

Or if she wants him from behind then he’d prefer to get behind her but he’d need to be on his knees for that, and she’d need to be on all fours. And, again, that’s way too much elevation off the ground; that sort of thing could only be done in his chambers, which he knows she won’t agree to. Not yet anyway. Would she ever?

But she doesn’t seem to want quite that much from him. At least not for now. What she seems to crave is just a taste of it. Just a morsel of him. Ben supposes that he might be content in the short term to just finger her and watch her come above him. Minimal movement. Minimal elevation. No visibility. It would be safer, and it would also please her. That was important to him.

Gently, the hand that’s been cradling the back of her neck as they’ve kissed coaxes her face back from his as he slows then stops his mouth. Rey pulls away slightly, just enough so she can watch him. And he can see her eyes, now wide and yearning. He likes to watch her. He likes to watch her watch him. That’s why he’d first started this two nights ago. Because Ben had missed her _gaze_ on him. Her attention.

As his eyes devour her plush lips now, and he imagines the ones that his fingers are between, it dawns on Ben that for as long as he thinks about fucking her, he can continue to delay his emotional reactions to recent events. When he looks at her, touches her, imagines her in disgraceful and delicious positions, his thoughts of her help him forget. _She_ helps him forget, just by being there, even if it’s just through a bond, as it is now. Her willingness to perpetuate what are probably impossible fantasies between them is keeping him just on the right side of some kind of invisible line between the pretense of sanity and the acceptance of his own emotional distress.

The breath catches in Ben’s throat as he slides his fingers deeper within her and hears her exhale. She lifts her chin and her eyes almost close as she feels him there. Is she shocked by it?

 _Please look at me,_ he thinks. _Mistress._

Rey holds her position as his fingers begin the slightest rhythm inside her – does she like it? – and he blinks back tears as he realizes she’s done what he asked. She’s looking back.

Ben’s ashamed of himself, even though he knows she’s seen tears in him more than once now and even though he’s never actually let them fall. Unlike her. He knows she cries at the drop of a helmet. He kind of wishes he could do that too. It would be a relief, to just fucking cry.

Manganese. Cortisol. These are why he doesn’t cry. Because when you lose these, you also lose stress and the Supreme Leader can’t lose that. Ben has spent too much time training Kylo Ren not to lose that. Training him instead to hold on to his pain – every tear – and use it to fuel the Darkness inside him.

But what bliss would it be? He can vaguely remember it, from long ago. Crying. Maybe one day he can ask her - one night – to show him how to let his tears fall again.

Still locked on her gaze he senses something shifting now. Is she conflicted? He can still feel how much she wants him, but now he’s anxious. Does she want him less? Has she grown tired of him already? Ben _has_ to be sure she’s sure. He just _has_ to be, and unless he is, he won’t do anything further, just as he’d resolved to do on the second night when he’d agreed to meet her here, on Kashyyyk, and no longer in his chambers. Because Ben can still sense that here they won’t fuck, and as he considers withdrawing his fingers from deep within her cunt he therefore wonders what the fuck they should now call this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read and left kudos on this work. It is much appreciated and really encouraging xx


	9. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 3. Part 7 of 7. Rey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeep, another slight tweak at the end just to keep the viewpoint consistent. Thanks again for the continued readership, much appreciated. xx

“If you want me to stop, I will,” he murmurs. “Mistress.”

She can’t answer him. Well, not with words. Every ability she’s ever had to do just about anything at all is temporarily disabled and Rey can do little more now than stare back at him, just as he’d asked her to. It’s the most she can do in return for the way his fingers are making her feel. Her mouth is slack and her eyes are tapered to within a mere measure of being closed in nothing else but the ecstasy of the rhythm of Ben inside her.

She watches his eyes begin to brim, just as they had on the Supremacy as he’d pleaded with her to join him. And just as they had when he was alone and bowed before her inside the Rebel base on Crait. She’s grown to know these earnest eyes so well. They haunt her. They are one of the reasons why he’s still here; why she still hasn’t just sent him back to the warship for good. Why she keeps saying yes each time he pleads with her again to go to him, or to let him stay, or to let him do more.

Does this mean she cares for Ben? Is that why she’s approved of his fingers, and also why she keeps saying no to his chambers? Because although she knows she’s never felt this good Rey wants something more than just what she sees him do to her in his head. She wants intimacy. She wants company. These are what she wants from him most, and she wants them here, on Kashyyyk, as well as there, in his bedroom.

But she wouldn’t say no to more of _this_ ; his inner wrist at the core of her apple-shaped arse, his lower palm pressed tight to her folds. And this is _not_ the same as what she’s seen in his head; what she’s seen he wants to do were they to leave the jungle floor for the succor of his chambers. She’d almost gasped aloud as he’d thought it all moments ago. The thing about her ankles, and the thing about his balls and he keeps going over it again, as gently he continues to work his generous fingers along the warm, wet walls of her, stroking; he isn’t rough, unlike what she’s seen in his head. He’s _good_  to her body. He’s _worshipful._

Does Ben know she’s seen it? Has he shown it all to her on purpose or has he meant to keep it closer than that but been unable? Like she’s unable to keep from seeing it all in him? Is _that_ why his eyes brim with tears now? Does he think he’s weak because of it? Because he thinks about her like that? Because it makes him feel good and because – as well as in his cock – it makes him feel warm in a place much higher up.

Has he ever felt _that_ before, in either place, she does wonder, but mostly the place higher up. The part that in her makes her crave his intimacy, his companionship; not just the part that he rubs now and that makes her crave more of him inside her. And not just fingers but _different_ parts, too. Are they mimicking each other? She has never felt this and he has never felt that. Is that possible? Are they _teaching_ each other? Rey’s wondered before what this is, what they’re doing. Is _this_ what it is?

She can smell him again; the petrichor she detected earlier. If she could she would nuzzle behind his ear, like Ben does to her. But is it him, that smell, or is the smell of something elsewhere? She’s not quite sure, her mind still in shock at the thrill of him inside her; a mind clouding rapidly with the impending feeling of some kind of storm he’s brewing there. What is it? Will it break? When?

The scent is wet and her body is waiting for the rain. Her own, liberally coating his fingers, and the deep soak of what she knows as his mouth. She thinks she would like to kiss him again but her body is still captive to the pleasure he’s building. She still can’t seem to gather her thoughts enough in order to move, and least of all in a direction that she could control, like toward his mouth. She can’t help but arch her neck further, though. She is _still_ watching him. But Rey knows she can’t do both for very much longer.

 _Stop,_ she thinks.

He blinks rapidly. Is he definitely blinking back tears now?

“I _can’t_ …,” she breathes.

He is. She senses it and feels his stomach clench below her own as his fingers slide gently from within her. Guilt racks her.

“Don’t feel that,” he whispers, as she watches him bring the slickened fingers to his mouth and slide them between his soft lips, sucking them; sucking her from them. Tasting her and licking her from him voraciously. Wiping it away with his tongue like rain. And swallowing her as she continues to watch him, jaw still slack and cunt still wet.

She can feel it on her skin already. What it would be like. What it would be like if he did one of the things he’d imagined doing to her if she were to go to his chambers. And as soon as she starts it she knows that she can’t stop the thought from continuing. She drops her eyes as she imagines him behind her, the spectacle of him devouring her from his fingers still fresh in her head as now she sees more of what he shows her; more of his vision of himself, coming all over the bare skin of her curves as she bends before him and he kneels...

Would he want her to watch him do that, too? Just like she watched him lick her from himself? It would feel hot - not like the cold that she can feel now - but she’s _not_ imagining now, as somewhere in the distance she hears Chewie bray.

And then she and Ben both feel as well as smell the rain; the smell of Takodana, where they’d first met. Wasn't it? Cool, fat splashes of it are landing now across the bare skin of her arse, still exposed to the night air. And Rey hears the bray again - louder this time - and she knows now he's seen them because she knows now his bray is a caution.

Chewie is warning them.

 _Go,_ she urges to Ben, through the bond.

Rey frantically tugs at her garments - covering herself - before she lifts her body up, kneeling and twisting around in the direction of the main Rebel camp. The rain is still only falling in slow, fat splashes; it’s not a deluge yet, but it’s enough to have stirred the Resistance

Ben is slower than her to react. She knows his mind is still on the feel of her around his fingers and the taste of her in his mouth, as he'd licked every trace from them. But she can tell she is still on his lips.

At last she sees him master himself, and then through the Force senses that he finally knows what she has known for some moments; that the Rebels have felt the rain - maybe smelled it, just like she and Ben have - and are moving for cover in their direction.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks, panicking.

 _Just go,_ she repeats. _They haven’t seen you yet._

He looks at her for a final time, and she senses he’s longing to take her with him.

"Ben, _please,"_ she whispers. "They’re _coming._ "

"Yes, Mistress," he murmurs, knowing when she pleads he is unable to fight her, and then watching sadly as he closes his eyes and is gone.


	10. Solo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 4. Part 1 of 3. Ben.

“Still raining?”

 _Yes,_ she thinks back.

Ben’s heart tugs unexpectedly as he sees her faint outline emerge in front of the place where he stares; on the empty pillow next to him as he lies opposite on a bed far too vast for one. As big as he is, there is still room for her and if she won’t Force-project then there is still room for just this - her image – and he will settle for not touching her if she will just continue to let him do this. To let him watch her. It makes him feel less lonely, even though he knows he’s really still just solo.

“Is it still cold?”

 _No,_ she thinks. _It’s warmed up._

Although Ben doubts this is true if he weighs her words against what he can see of her surroundings now, as his vision of her begins to strengthen.

She is huddled beneath the shabby, Resistance-issue blanket. He remembers how it felt against his bare skin: scratchy, coarse and cheaply made. Warm enough, he supposes, but not what he’d call comfortable and nothing like what he's accustomed to, especially since he ascended. The plush surrounds of his new chambers are a pleasing match for his newfound superiority as Leader. There is only one thing missing from them and she’s currently cold and curled in sub-standard conditions on Kashyyyk.

“So how do I get you off?” he asks, quietly.

The beauty of being back in the privacy of his warship quarters means he can vocalize as much as he likes. This might come in handy later. But he still likes to keep his voice soft for now. He knows she likes that. And he likes to treat her like that. She’s worth it. She deserves it.

 _What?_ she thinks back, as though doubting what she’s just heard and his heart skips a beat as he sees her eyes narrow in shock.

Ben’s jaw slackens as he begins to feel a familiar thrill begin in his stomach. He likes to shock her, almost as much as he likes to watch her bothered, especially by him.

“How do I get you off that wretched excuse for a planet?”

 _You wish,_ she thinks back, but he can see her eyes sparkle and also see how she’s beginning to shift her body below her appalling blanket.

“Yes, I do,” he says, softly. “Mistress.”

He watches the curved form of her wriggle itself down further beneath the blanket so that now he can only see her eyes and a few locks of hair. He is unable to see what she’s doing and now _he_ is bothered. He wants to be able to watch her and she’s obscuring herself from his view. Is she doing this on purpose?

“Tell me what you’re doing with your hands,” he says softly.

Her eyes sparkle again. She _is_ doing it on purpose. He knows those eyes. This is payback for the time he vocalized when she’d expressly told him to stop it.

“I apologized for that,” he reminds her.

“No you didn’t,” she can’t help but whisper. _You started to do… something else instead._

“I dare you to say that out loud.”

_Fuck you, Ben._

“Would you? Please?”

He watches her wriggle again below the blanket. The thrill that began earlier in his stomach has naturally made its way lower and now he can feel his cock straining uncomfortably against the light lower clothing he sleeps in.

“What are you doing with your hands?” he asks, trying a different approach.

If he poses it as a question, maybe she’ll finally answer it. Maybe it won’t sound so much like an order then. He knows she doesn’t like that. She likes to make him feel inferior, and as his clothing becomes unbearably tight against his lengthening cock he realizes just how much _he_ likes it, too.

“Mistress?” he adds, as he slides the waistband of his garment all the way down, so that below his own light bedding he is now bare.

She averts her eyes and now he knows that their connection has grown strong enough in the time that’s passed so far tonight that she can hear every thought in his head, and not just the ones he wants her to. But Ben doesn’t think he minds her knowing what he’s doing; how she’s making him feel when he can’t even _see_ her, when all he has to look at are her eyes.

“You still haven’t told me,” he murmurs.

_Told you what?_

“You know what,” he breathes. “What you’re doing.”

_I’m trying to sleep._

“You are not.”

_I am, Ben._

“What are you doing with your hands?”

_I’m not telling you._

“Do you want me to tell you what I’m doing with mine?” he asks softly, happier now that she’s returned her gaze to his and he can watch her eyes begin to widen at his words.

She says nothing, but she doesn’t look away.

“You _do_ want to know,” he murmurs. “Don’t you.”

Still she says nothing.

 _Would you prefer me to show you?_ he thinks, sensing that speaking this would push her too far and cause her instead to Force him out of her head and close their connection, like she’d done on Crait. Using their bond was more intimate and he knows she definitely wants this from him.

He knows she is surrounded by Rebels now. He can see their forms on the darkened jungle floor behind her in the distance. The Resistance has clearly moved further into the cover of the dense canopy, the outskirts of which Rey had relocated to on the second night that she and Ben had started this. Because the Kashyyyk rain has set in.

Ben knows he’s been lucky to get away unharmed. He’d started off carefully enough with her on the third night but his physical urges had gotten the better of him and he knew he’d grown complacent as the time had ticked by. He’d sensed the vapor rise, dropping the air temperature, but he’d entirely failed to sense the onset of the monsoon, a thing he should’ve picked up on easily enough but which he hadn’t; he’d been too busy, trying to pick up something else instead. It had been just as wet, though.

And now he thinks again of where her hands are. Was one of them where he’d had his own last night, thrust up the back of her and half-buried in her slick cunt? Is that what she is doing now below her blanket? Is she longing for him now, and imagining her own fingers are the ones he’d had inside her? Does she miss him just as much as he misses her?

Ben hasn’t yet reached for himself. He’d been teasing Rey earlier, wondering what her eyes would do if he asked if she’d like him to show himself to her. But as he imagines her now, with her own fingers inside herself – repeating what he’d done to her and imagining it was him – he can’t help but put his hand around himself and imagine that hand is hers, as he begins to pull gently, wondering if that’s what she’d be like if _she_ were to do this to him.

He wants to ask her to do it, even though he knows she can’t, still stuck in the middle of a bunch of Rebels in the miserable jungle rain. Would she do it like this? _Will_ she do it like this?

“If you want me to you need to say _please_ first,” Rey breathes. _And you also need to call me ‘Mistress’._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in response to the 'Solo' prompt from @two-halves-of-reylo this week.


	11. For What It's Worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 4. Part 2 of 3. Rey.

She hadn’t realized at first, again, even though she knows now she probably should have. Thinking back on it, to anyone else it probably would have been obvious. Well maybe not to  _anyone_ , just someone with more… experience.

‘You would really do that?’ she’d heard him say faintly through the bond as she’d still been on Kashyyyk, a minor pant detectable in his voice.

She’d known at that time he’d still been pulling it – alone and in his chambers on the warship – even though her view of him through the connection had been limited, and she’d thought this had been on purpose.

 _You’d really want me to?_  she’d thought back.

“Of course I fucking would.”

As he’d said it she’d watched him throw his head back in frustration. The muscles she could see above the light bedding that covered the rest of him had tightened and she could tell he was pulling harder. But then abruptly he'd stopped, head still thrown back and muscles still tense.

_Did you just…?_

“No,” he’d said, quickly and coarsely, as she’d watched him bring the other hand to his hair and run it through roughly, tussling it.

Then he’d exhaled shakily and turned to face her.

“Can you come here? Please?”

As he presses himself to her now – and she feels the textures of him again – she recounts them all, making sure they’re all still there. The hard muscles of his chest and upper arms. The blazing warmth of his palms. The soft cushion of his lips. The mild prickle of the shadow beginning to clock above his top lip and then the tenderness of his lower lip as it presses once against hers before opening and soothing her mouth like a balm. That is the contrast that affects Rey most; the scratch and then the remedy, all in one action. That was Ben as Rey knew him now: nuanced.

She needs to ensure that she hasn’t forgotten any of this, any of his contradictions. Any of the fine balance of chaos and calm that he shows her is in him in these nights they now spend together, just in case this is the last one.

It’s a thought she’d had today, as night had approached. What if it never happens again? What if he never wants to Force-connect again? If Ben decides that she makes him too weak and Kylo returns and starts to push her away, to Force her away, to block her out? Would Kylo do that now? Or does Kylo possess the same carnal desires for her that Ben does, but would just act on them differently? Rey doesn’t know. It might be interesting to guess about it though, perhaps one night when he didn’t turn up and she grew very lonely…

Sometimes she wonders if Ben and Kylo are as mutually exclusive as that, though. There are times now when he sounds like Kylo but feels like Ben. And maybe she likes it that way. Like how, for example, he’d made her feel that same squirm and thrill she’d felt on the first night earlier when he’d teased her about her hands, and about his own. About what she’d be prepared to let him do to her body with those hands, and what she could hear he wanted her to do to him with her own.

 _Fuck,_ she thinks, bothered by her thoughts of Ben again.

She feels his soft kiss slow before he pulls himself away slightly, looking deep into her eyes now but saying nothing. Rey can tell he is searching for the source of her frustration. The connection has strengthened now and she can feel the familiar waves of his thoughts and emotions begin to at first lap at her own and then merge gently with them, like streams at the mouth of a river.

It is always gentle now. Somehow, it is never now like it had been the first time he’d been inside her head, and she his, on Starkiller. That was why she felt it was always Ben in her arms these nights, and not Kylo. But whenever they weren’t physical, whenever he was just thoughts in her head or a vision she could only see, it was definitely Kylo. And it almost hurt, that kind of tease. And she didn't quite know whether or not she missed that. Did she miss the struggle to get inside him? Did she regret how easy it was now that Ben would let her press as close to him as this?

When they were Force-connected, and still at a relative physical distance, that sort of access still largely relied on his permission. She couldn’t always know his thoughts or feelings: he usually had to let her. Like she had to let him. But when they were like this, the access just seemed to happen and every thought and feeling just seemed to make its way to her. Like shifting sands or ocean currents, at times like this _all_ their boundaries seemed only theoretical and Rey could hardly tell where one of them finished and the other began. And the bond became _so_ real that she could still feel his sweat on her fingertips even after she’d lifted them off the back of his neck. Could still taste the clean flavor of his tongue beneath her own even after she’d pulled her mouth away.

She hadn’t realized at first that Ben was bare, but now she can feel a coarse prickle of hair against the top of her thighs where before he’d felt smooth when he’d pressed himself to her there, covered by the cotton of the light lower garment he’d previously always worn to bed since this had first happened. He is leaning over her and Rey is almost flat on her back. He pauses, and Rey knows he can sense her hesitation.

“Do you want me to stop?” he murmurs, still mostly looking into her eyes, but she can see his gaze flicking to her lips at very regular intervals. "Mistress?"

Ben brushes his lips along her cheek as he moves his mouth to her neck and nuzzles just below her ear. Rey knows he is smelling her. She feels the soft prickle of his shadow again and she can’t help but arch against him as she closes her eyes, feeling a thrill run its way down the length of her body from where he meets her, making her nipples stiff and her lower belly warm. He presses himself again to her and then shifts his hips so he’s pressing his hard, bare cock firmly against her sex now. She knows what he wants and she can’t help but wriggle against him, growing wet. 

“For what it’s worth,” she breathes, lifting her mouth slightly so that she can brush her lips against his as she speaks the rest, “I was never doing anything with my hands.”


	12. Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 4. Part 3 of 3. Ben.

_“What?”_

“On Kashyyyk,” she admits. “I was never doing anything with my hands.”

“Under the blanket?”

“That’s right.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No,” she says, breathily. “Ben, I’m not.”

“What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry.”

The tips of the fingers of one of his hands are working on one of her nipples, feeling it swell and rise beneath the gauze of her threadbare garment as the rest of him feels Rey press herself closer to the source of the pleasure he’s creating in her. A forearm supports him, allowing Ben a constant view of her upper body and face.

From here, he can indulge in the visible signs of her ecstasy, and has been, marveling at how much this seemingly tiny gesture of his affects her while his mind has struggled to comprehend just how much she continues to be able to affect him; just how bad he not only wants but needs to make her feel good.

“Don’t fucking apologize,” he struggles to say, through a mouthful of her hair, as in raw frustration he buries his face in it.

Was she for real? Was she actually for real? Does she realize how crazy that had driven him, as she’d writhed beneath that measly excuse for bedding and made him think she’d been fingering herself?

“Do you realize,” he begins, his face still buried in her hair and his cock still pressed hard up against the nub of her as he can still feel her grinding, craving more of the pleasure he’s already giving her.

“Do you realize,” he tries to start again, "How much I fucking want you…?"

“Yes,” he hears her murmur, although what escapes her is more like a moan.

“You haven’t answered my question,” he huffs.

“What?” she asks vaguely, sounding distant to Ben and as though her mind is slipping away, or has already.

 _Slipping,_  he thinks. He’d like it if something were slipping somewhere now…

“Do you want me to stop?” he breathes.

“I just…”

“Yes?” he urges.

She grows silent again, and so does he. He can hear her breathing heavily below him and feel her exhalations on his neck as they land on his skin as hot gusts, stoking his already high drive for her but doing nothing at all to provide an answer to the question she still hasn’t convincingly answered for him.

“Rey, what do you want from me?”

He is very close to asking her to leave.

“Please don’t,” she murmurs. “Please don’t ask me that, Ben.”

“You don’t know what you want,” he returns, fighting the urge in him to grow angry. Fighting the urge to make up her mind for her. Fighting the urge to have his way without thought for consequence. Without regard for her.

 _Is this all you want from me?_  he hears her think back.

What?  _All_  he wants from her? Is that what this is about?

“Rey,” he whispers. “Of course it isn’t.”

He’d still been buried in her hair, too frustrated to be able to pull away to look at her and too horny to be able to let her scent go. He could have happily kept himself buried there as he’d buried his cock between the folds of her silky cunt, which he can’t for the life in him stop thinking about, even now as he senses her conflict – as well as the fact that she’s just plain upset – and consequently needing much more from him now than just a hard fast fuck. And he knows it would be fast. He can already feel himself halfway there as the pre-cum slides its way stickily down the head of his length.

“What did you do today?”

 _What?_ Has she just asked him about his day?

“What?” he breathes, bewildered. What the fuck is going on?

“What did you do today?” she repeats.

Oh fuck, she  _is_  asking him about his fucking day.

“Are you _serious?”_ he huffs again, pulling his face out of her hair at last and tilting it down to look at her.

Rey’s eyes are wide. She _is_ serious; she actually wants to know about his day.

Ben sighs. Then he rolls off her and onto his back to stare up at the monotonous paneling above him. He closes his eyes briefly before turning to face her.

“You realize that I have a raging hard-on right now, right?”

“Yes,” she says. “I’m wet as fuck, too, you know.”

He has to fight the smile. It’s there, wanting to creep its way across his face. She’s funny when she wants to be.

They stare at each other from across the bed for several minutes.

“So?” she prompts. “Are you going to tell me, or what?”

Ben sighs again. He cannot believe that this is fucking happening. That here they are alone in his chambers - he stark naked and so hard he could snap and she mere inches from him - and yet neither of them able to do anything until he’s delivered an account to her of his fucking day. This is ridiculous, but he’s going to do it because he fucking wants her.  _That_  much.

“Okay,” he starts, taking a very deep breath and regretfully feeling his dick begin to deflate. “I read some reports.”

“What about?” she asks, rolling over to face him and folding her arms across her chest in a pose that he can’t help notice is irritatingly typical of deep and genuine interest; she is expecting this to be a long conversation. Fuck.

“Firsthand accounts,” he sighs. “About what happened to the Supremacy.”

“What did happen?”

“Rey...”

“Sorry,” she adds in a small voice, dropping her gaze and growing silent.

She looks disappointed. He feels guilty.

“That’s okay,” he says lamely, wondering whether or not he actually means it and trying very hard to maintain a relative degree of patience in the face of this tedium, sensing it’s important to her.

“That’s one of the reasons I commissioned the reports,” he continues, as the logic of it unexpectedly hits him. “Because I would like to know that, too.”

He stares silently at her for several more moments, waiting for her to ask another question but she maintains the silence. Is she thinking? Or is she done?

“Ben?”

Nope, not done.

“Yes?” he answers, still fighting the silent war with himself for patience.

“This is nice,” she says quietly, as a soft smile blossoms across her face.

Ben can’t help but melt in response to it, feeling his frustration ebb like a nighttime thaw in the glow of first light.

“Sure,” he says, rolling in to face her again. “It is.”

He’d still rather be fucking her brains out at this point but sure, this was fine.

“It’s nice just to... talk to you,” she adds.

Ben looks at her carefully before speaking, wanting to somehow finish this but at the same time aware that it’s important to her. Talking. Conversation.

“Would you prefer this? With me? To that?”

“You mean, would I prefer it to...?”

“Yes.”

“No,” she says, firmly. “I still want you.”

 _“Mistress,”_ he murmurs, edging closer to her and reaching out with his fingertips to lightly touch the skin at her flank and then curve his hand around her waist, drawing her back to him.

He knows it’s true. Ben can both sense and literally feel it as she relaxes characteristically into him and their bodies find what are now familiar means by which to fit around each other, as though somehow they’d both grown like that long ago and had ever since just been waiting to match.

“Can you sense that?” he asks softly.

Rey pauses, then smiles. “It’s stopped raining on Kashyyyk.”

“Would you like to go back?”

“Just for awhile?”

“Yes.”

She smiles again as Ben watches her close her eyes, feeling his heart expand as now he does the same.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” she whispers, very softly.

 _Yes,_ he thinks, as he watches her watch two of the planet’s three moons begin to emerge from behind the clouds. _It’s beautiful._

The lids of her eyes look heavy. She’s growing tired.

“What do you have to do tomorrow?” he asks her, under his breath so no Rebels will hear and still while looking at her.

 _Probably just more supply runs,_ she thinks slowly, sleep definitely starting to work its way across her mind now, beginning to cover it like a blanket.

Ben pulls her closer and feels her rest her cheek gratefully against his warm shoulder.

 _Tomorrow night,_ he thinks, as she drifts off in his arms, _I’ll ask you about it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer than usual - hope you enjoy x


	13. Wet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 5. Part 1 of 6. Rey.

Shivering almost uncontrollably now Rey hurries back to the relative shelter of the Falcon, desperate for warmth. Earlier she’d thought that if she was just stoic enough, for long enough, she could fight it off – for Maker’s sake, this was a jungle planet – but as the night has settled down the cold has only grown exponentially worse and now she is positively frigid.

_What happened?_

She whips her head around, searching for the source of Ben’s voice. Surely he has enough brains not to appear here, of all places, smack in the middle of the ship. And surely he can sense she’s not alone.

 _Wait,_ she warns, just in case he can’t sense it.  _I’m not alone and she’s not asleep._

It’s either that, or she’s right about his brains.

 _Who’s not asleep?_ he thinks suspiciously. _And you’ll pay for that last comment later._

 _Never you mind_ , she thinks back, not wanting to go _there_ with him right now. _And you know I won’t, Ben._

He goes silent for a few moments and Rey can sense he’s putting it together now; she waits for the pieces to click. Then she hears him again inside her head, but he’s changed subjects. On purpose? Is he avoiding this topic again?

_So, how was your day?_

Rey sighs. He  _is_ avoiding it, but she lets him move on.

_Well, quite obviously it was pretty fucking Makerdamn bad, Ben, if you really must know._

_Wow,_ he thinks back _. Okay. Wanna tell me what happened?_

_No, I don’t._

_Why not?_

She sighs again. He is so infuriating.

 _Just go away, Ben, please,_ she thinks again, too cold to think about it anymore. _I’m not in the mood for games right now._

_I’m not gaming. You’re upset. You’re cold. What happened?_

Rey sighs for a third time. The weather fluctuations on this planet are quite frankly baffling to her. Chewie had warned her more than once today that more rain would come, but she hadn’t believed him, and now every item of clothing she possesses is still wet from the downpour; she has nothing dry to sleep in tonight.

_I thought you said I was the one without brains?_

“ _Fuck off_ ,” she seethes, under her breath so General Organa won’t hear.

But Rey knows she’s right to be cautious; although the General had bedded down in her usual spot on the Falcon – and long before Rey had gone outside to check her clothes for what had probably been the millionth time that night – she does sense that Leia is not yet asleep.

“I haven’t asked for your opinion,” Rey murmurs, as she wraps her blanket around herself tightly and slides down the wall of the freighter. Then she pulls the back of it up over her head, covering her face to leave just a small gap in front through which to breathe, hoping this will help.

 _Fuck,_ she thinks as another bout of shivering hits her, rattling her teeth and creaking its way through her bones. _Not better._

 _Rey,_ she hears him think. _Are you wet?_

 _What the fuck is wrong with you?_ _No, I am not fucking wet._

_You are._

_‘Oh my fucking stars, Ben, you are so infuriating,’_ she breathes into the blanket, appalled by his apparent train of thought at a time when he must surely be able to sense by now that she is virtually freezing to death.

 _Will you just calm the fuck down?_ he thinks back. _You’re cold because you’re wet. Right?_

Rey says nothing.

_Is that a ringing silence I detect?_

“Shut up, Ben,” she whispers.

 _Come here,_ he thinks, and she notices his tone has changed. The sarcasm is gone. _I can dry and warm you here. Then you can go back if you want._

Rey pauses to think. She is still furious at him, but she knows she can’t stay here like this. She remembers – and for certainly not the first time today – how warm he is when he presses himself to her. She sighs, bothered by him yet again.

_Would that even work?_

_It should,_ he thinks back. _If you stay long enough._

Rey flips the blanket off her forehead to give him a look of heavy skepticism, knowing that with the passing time the connection between them will have grown strong enough by now for him to be able to see her.

 _What’s wrong with that?_ he thinks softly. _I make you welcome, don’t I?_

She sighs, still cold.

_Fine._

_Bring the blanket,_ he adds quickly, as she closes her eyes.

“So, is this a kink of yours now or something?” she says, referring to the blanket as when she opens her eyes the recognizably bleak aesthetic of his chambers begins to emerge around her.

Reluctantly, Rey stands and then begins to unwrap the blanket from around her chilly body before holding it out to Ben. Wearing just his light lower underclothes, he pads barefoot across the floor toward her and takes it gently from her hand.

“Rey, this thing is filthy,” he says, looking it over abhorrently before tossing it aside, in the direction of the sonic nearby. “To say it needs washing is an understatement.”

She narrows her eyes as he continues to approach her.

“These need to come off, too,” he says quietly, touching the tips of his fingers cautiously to her waist, indicating her damp tunic and trousers.

 _Shit,_ she thinks.

Rey takes a deep breath as he snakes his hands around her waist, working his palms beneath the tunic and beginning to lift it. Her skin is so cold that the warmth of his touch almost burns before she feels it begin to seep deep below her epidermal layer, deep enough to begin to warm her in places she knows only thoughts of him can.

And she can’t help then but let him lift the wet garment over her head. She watches it land beside the blanket.

“Take off your boots,” he whispers.

Rey obeys – her eyes never leaving his – before she feels him begin to gently unfasten her trousers. Carefully he slips them down her hips and she steps lightly from them. Her skin is still damp and the temperate breeze of the reconditioned air circling through the warship feels arctic to her. She shivers again.

“You’re freezing,” he breathes, and she senses he wants to draw her closer, but doesn’t. “I’ll start the ‘fresher. It’ll warm you faster than I can.”

He moves to draw away slightly, in order to reach it, but Rey has already slipped her arms around him. She can smell his warmth – earthy and familiar – and as now he burns below the touch of her needy palms she knows she wants his whole chest against her. She pulls him closer.

“Just put your arms around me first, Ben,” she murmurs. “Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In response to ‘Rain’ from two-halves-of-reylo this week. There’s already a fair bit of rain in this fic so I tried to get creative with it.  
> More soon. Thanks for reading x


	14. Leia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 5. Part 2 of 6. Ben.

He knows he can’t say no to her, even though Rey’s comparatively small body is still so cold as she begins to press it to his own.

Ben’s arms are so long that he can almost reach right around her with each one as he holds her close now, so near that every shiver that continues to rack her body runs its way through his core too. She’s still freezing and now he can also feel that the last of the clothing she wears is still wet, and so cold to touch he fears it might just snap-freeze.

“Rey,” he says, urgently. “These have to come off.”

She doesn’t move. He hears her murmur faintly from somewhere beneath his chin and now he is anxious. She’s growing too cold. He needs to get her in the ‘fresher. Somehow, he needs to raise her core temperature and quickly; he can’t afford to waste any more time. She can’t afford him to, either.

Just as he’d done two nights ago, Ben begins to work his hands swiftly below the gauze of her upper garment. She doesn’t protest, just gently goes slack and lets him lift it up and over her head, tossing it on the floor by her other things, near the sonic, and then quickly beginning to work the waistband of her lower garment down her hips.

It’s not easy. He can feel her body still racked with shivers and the dampness of the fabric means it won’t slide down her, not like the trousers had earlier. Ben has to wriggle it. It sticks to her skin in places, which is still damp too, and finally he kneels in order to pull the garment below the curves of her, tugging it out from her thighs, which she’s crossed to try to keep herself warm.

But as at last he yanks the garment free of her, and finally watches it fall below her knees, he knows there’s only one way to warm her now and it’s slowly with water. He needs to gradually raise her core temperature.

As Ben tries to move her feet, to get her to step out of the garment so she can walk to the ‘fresher, he knows she’s deteriorated further. Sensing it’s the only option left he stands, placing an arm behind her knees and chest, to lift her body swiftly and carry her there. He thumps it hard with his elbow to start the flow.

“Tepid,” he commands.

It responds with a stream of recycled water that feels freezing to him but which he senses is where he should start. Ben holds her chest directly under it. At the feel of the water, he feels her start to stir in his arms.

“Rey?”

She opens her eyes and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“I’m going to put you down now,” he says. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she murmurs.

As he gently bends just enough to let her toes touch the ground he breathes another sigh of relief as now he feels the muscles in her calves and thighs firm, knowing she can take her own weight again now. She’s returning. She’s finally warming.

“How do you turn it up?”

“Moderate,” Ben commands in the same clear, neutral tone he’d used before to voice activate the thermal control.

He watches her lean forward slightly and tilt her face up to the water, letting it wash over her from her forehead down. Every so often she leans forward to let her mouth emerge on the other side of the stream and inhale a breath before re-submerging her whole face below the flow.

 _What’s after moderate?_ she thinks to him, still submerged. _Hot?_

 _Don’t move it up too quickly,_ he cautions, thinking rather than saying it just in case she can’t hear him over the sounds of the water cascading around her ears.

_You’ll burn. Stay with this. Just for a little while longer._

Again, she obeys. He watches her mouth emerge again to take another breath and then re-submerge, just as before.

For minutes, Ben and Rey exist just like this, with she breathing through the mild stream of water and he watching her, within reach but not touching. His own underclothes wet and sticking to him uncomfortably but not caring. His only concern is Rey.

“Why didn’t she help you?” he finally asks.

She leans back, eyes still closed but ears clear of the water now.

“What?” she says, vaguely.

“Why didn’t she help you?” Ben repeats.

He watches her open her eyes, then close them again quickly. She brings her hands to her face and rubs them clear of the droplets lingering in and around her eyes before opening them again and turning to face him. The water falls at her back now, silhouetting her naked body with a light spray that reminds him of something he thinks he remembers from long ago...

Ben breathes out shakily. He hasn’t ever seen Rey like this. Across the course of the past few nights, as he’s been with her, licked and sucked her in some of the places he can see now, and put his fingers inside others, it’s been under the relative cover of the darkness and through the low light of nighttime.

But she isn’t lit faintly by starlight now. The artificial stuff of his chambers falls across her forms in a clinical honesty. There is nothing but air and water between her and his gaze now, and Ben drops it, suddenly feeling panicked, but only until he feels her fingers closing around his wrist. She is drawing him closer, toward the water coming from the 'fresher. And he can’t say no.

 _“Mistress,”_ he breathes, nervously, realizing that the water spraying from her shower, wetting his own clothing, has begun to make it translucent. Now, as he stands with her beneath the ‘fresher, she can see right through the fabric. As though acknowledging this, he feels her work her fingers gently beneath the band of the garment before he takes over, feeling it drop heavily at his feet before stepping out of it and then letting her pull him closer.

“Moderate hot,” he murmurs.

“No,” Rey breathes, as he feels her push herself closer to him while she draws her arms up and around to the back of his neck. “This is definitely hot.”

But Ben doesn’t smile. His mind is still stuck on Kashyyyk, watching her nearly freeze to death on the floor of the Falcon beneath a sordid blanket. Alone.

“Why didn’t she help you?” he asks her for a third time, his gaze boring into hers with nothing but anger in response to what she’s just been through.

“It’s okay,” Rey says softly, bringing damp fingertips to the scar on Ben’s cheek and touching them very lightly to it, stroking him there. He closes his eyes. Her touch is so good.

“You would have died there,” he murmurs, and although she’s calming him the same anger he feels right now for the Resistance still laces his voice. “You would have frozen solid on that piece of junk.”

“I think she was going to,” Rey says softly, answering his question at last. “But I didn’t tell her any of it, Ben. I didn’t tell her what happened. I didn’t tell anyone.”

“You can be stubborn when you want to be.”

She gives him a look.

“Anyway, I’m almost sure she could sense it,” Rey continues, beginning to gently twist the ends of his hair as it dampens from the spray of the water. “That’s why she was still awake. I think she was going to offer me something warm and dry to sleep in but then you were there, Ben, and so she knew she didn’t need to.”

To his touch, her body feels warm now as he cradles it with his palms.

 _“Thank you,”_ she whispers, before lifting her mouth to his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of also in response to the ‘Rain’ prompt – I just split it in half as it would have been too long otherwise for this quick fic, and I kinda thought it was nice to get this part of it from Ben rather than Rey. x


	15. Refresher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 5. Part 3 of 6. Rey.

Is this the softest part of his body? For not the first time she wonders it again as her mouth kneads gently at his lower lip.

Ben is just so hard, Rey supposes, if she has to sum him up as just one dominant texture. Which she doesn’t really, but which she just can’t help. Especially at times like now, when they are pressed so close.

The muscles across the landscape of him are refined from nothing but practice. Use makes them as firm as they are. So where does that leave his lips? Or the skin just inside them? His tongue?

She can feel these soft parts of him now with her own mouth and tongue as she fondly sucks and licks at them. Can hear him moan softly as well. As the warm water continues to beat a steady rhythm at her back – as she feels his hands work away at the supple flesh of her arse – and as she also feels one of them move further, beyond her cheeks, a finger works its way knowingly between her folds as she breathes in, arching her torso and pushing her hips back, onto it. Along it.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

“Yes,” she breathes.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

“Yes, but not here.”

“Where?” he asks softly. “In bed?”

“Yes,” she murmurs, nuzzling his face.

After slowly withdrawing his finger, he re-cups her body and gently coaxes her back to shut off the ‘fresher. She feels his hands slide off her and then one of them clasps her wrist gently before leading her to the sonic, at the base of which her damp and dirty garments still lie.

She’s never been in a sonic, and the feeling is strange. A tingle on her damp skin, drying it, and beginning below the soles of her feet before moving up and beyond them, until the vibrations pass over the very tips of the top of her hair and then it’s all over.

“But we’re just beginning,” she hears him whisper as he lifts her, just like he had earlier. _“Mistress.”_

She smiles as he carries her and closes her eyes as he lays her down on the soft surface of his bed. Again the contrast in textures affects her and her mind lingers on how fitting it is that such a hard body needs such a soft crib to revive itself every night. To refresh.

Rey feels Ben above her.

“No, _me_ ,” she whispers, pushing at him gently.

He rolls onto his back and she straddles him before bringing her face down to his. Repeating what she’d done in the ‘fresher, Rey opens her mouth and closes her lips around his lower one. She feels Ben do the same to her top lip, and then they both open to kiss each other slowly, tongues softly exploring and hips beginning to gently move below.

She closes her eyes and breathes out as two of his long fingers enter her. This part is familiar. He has her pinned again. She can’t move back or forth. With his fingers up the back of her and his chest at her own, he has her held there, receiving him. Does she want it to continue? Does she want it to stop? She is back at the start again.

Gently he begins to move his fingers inside her. She feels her hips start to rock more purposefully in response to the sensation, which is warm and filling. A pressure she’s felt before begins to slowly build, like a storm on a horizon that she can only imagine, having grown up on a desert world almost void of them.

It’s difficult to keep her eyes on him. She knows he wants this. He’s asked her enough times to do it. Strangely this time he hasn’t requested it aloud but she can hear it in his head.

_Mistress._

Increasingly she loses her bearings. Where is she now? It’s hard to focus on anything but the feel of his hand at the base of her arse, as his fingers continue to slip away inside her. As her hips rock away at him and her upper body undulates. She’s not aware she’s doing anything but responding to his touch.

She feels his fingers reach for her nipple. His thumb and forefinger find it and she feels them start to rub at her, as the fingers of his other hand continue inside her. Rey starts to murmur something, exactly what she’s not quite sure. She feels her mouth move and her body start to snake in a motion that begins in her hips and ends with her head tipped back, mouth open and whispering something into the sterile air of his chambers. She’s vaguely aware of hair in her face. Is it hers? His? He’s still below her.

Something’s wrong with her breathing now, and yet somehow it’s very right. Inhalations are sharp and hard, and she’s holding them before forcing them out. It’s almost violent. Is she in pain? But he feels so good below her and his fingers at her nipple, while so aggravating, are at the same time so impossibly addictive. Like oxygen itself, which somehow she just can’t seem to regulate her intake of as she continues to gasp and pant above him. She wants to breathe his name but she can’t quite get it together.

Rey thrusts her head down again towards him, dipping her face beyond his reclined shoulder. As her neck comes within range of Ben’s mouth, he reaches up for it and opens his lips to cover the delicate skin just below her ear.

“Oh, _fuck,_ ” she hears herself moan, as she feels his tongue on the skin there. He’s licking her.

Great moans escape her every time she exhales now and she feels her hips driving down on his hand, grinding at it. Rey lifts her chest away from him but his fingers won’t release her, still toying gently at her nipple, pulling it back to him as she feels herself push around his hand and then lift again, only to be tugged back down. It’s a vicious and delicious cycle and she doesn’t want it to end.

Yet something inside her – that has always been there – is verging. And she’s tried to postpone it. To tell him to stop, and when. To master his drive, when really all she’s done is to control her own. His urges are her own. His passion is Rey’s. As Ben’s hand brings her ever closer to a destiny she’s been trying to fight for too long she knows what’s been waiting. What she’s been missing, all those days she spent alone.

The muscles just inside her entrance begin their contractions, signaling the start of her orgasm, and Rey thinks she hears her voice say Ben’s name before her mouth crashes over his again. She feels him push his lips back at her and then open them to her tongue, which she drives to the back of his throat as her climax racks her core. Fire already kindled now flares deep within her, the blush of it blossoming up her body as she feels an unimaginable warmth breathe out from her sex, light sweat breaking out across her back. And she bites down hard on that softest part of him, the soft lower lip, reminding him.

_Mine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued reads, kudos and comments. Very valued. This fic is too fun to write xx


	16. Kylo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 5. Part 4 of 6. Ben.

It whips through him like the blaster bolt she’d shot on Ahch-To but this time it hits Ben hard. The pain of her teeth clamped down on his lip courses through his body and his heart is in his mouth. Can she taste it there now? Is that why she’s done this?

 _Mine,_ she’d thought then.

 _Yes it is,_ he thinks now.

He feels her let him go and then Rey’s lips salve around the source of his pain. Her soft mouth soothes as she sucks, her tongue licking with care across the ample curve of his lower lip. But he’d liked it; the bite and the sharp pain that followed as she’d claimed him as hers. And he’d liked that, too. He wants to act on that now. He wants to act on that pain.

Placing an open palm in the center of Rey’s chest, Ben applies a light pressure and she lifts her body compliantly, still thrumming. He notes her slackened mouth, but then an expression of mild surprise crosses her face as he presses his other palm to her hip, pushing much more firmly. In the end she chooses to lift the hip though, and now he can shift. Swiftly. Before she can change her mind. And here they are again.

Ben’s had her captive before. He supposes she was also captive earlier, pinned above him in several places by three fingers, two lips and one thumb. But he’s above and behind her now, lying almost flat to her back and that’s how he needs her for the moment, as his mouth finds the recess between her lobe and the base of her neck.

“Place your hands here,” he says, under his breath, as he clasps one of her wrists and gently shifts it away, so that she rests on a forearm stretched out in front.

“And here,” he adds, doing the same to her other wrist before placing both her palms face down.

“Don’t move them.”

He pauses to watch her. She doesn’t shift her hands, but she does turn her head, searching around for sight of him. He lowers his face again, so close now that his lips brush the skin behind her ear and he can smell her. Ben closes his eyes and breathes her in, barely able to whisper the words.

“Spread your knees.”

She does it very slowly. Her belly is still flat to the soft padding of his bed. He lifts his body rapidly and slides her back by the waist so that her knees spread further. Then he lies down again, his powerful form holding her there like a panther with prey, preventing her from moving away. Ben’s heart is in his mouth again.

“Do you like this position?” he whispers.

“Yes.”

And the next words are barely audible – almost still just a thought – but his lips do move and he can definitely feel sound vibrate along his throat.

“Yes, _Kylo_.”

He feels Rey tense below him, but she says it.

“Yes, _Kylo_.”

Something that he hasn’t felt in days thrills him then. This name, said again in her voice, makes his already stiff cock ache for her even more because a part of him that still exists has missed hearing it. Has she missed saying it?

“Do you like where you are?” he breathes, changing the subject.

“What do you mean?” she asks, cautious.

Ben senses this conversation makes her nervous. He tries to breathe out slowly as his mind skims erratically through topics he could switch to as anxiety suddenly grips him. She has a mind to go back to the safety of Kashyyyk, although in his heart he knows she won’t; every stitch of the clothing she arrived here in is still lying at the base of the sonic.

“Don’t go,” he whispers. “Please.”

His lips brush against the place he knows she likes them to most.

“I just want you to lie there below me,” he says. “Just for a little while.”

“Yes, _Kylo_ ,” she whispers, as he hears the breath catch in her throat and feels her upper body begin to arc.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” she asks, turning her head again, trying to look at him.

“That rubbing thing again,” he says, bothered by it and completely unable to keep from nuzzling at the back of her head with his cheek in response to it. He doesn’t want to do that yet. But her bare arse has begun to push gently up and down against his rapidly hardening cock.

“You _like_ it,” she breathes, not stopping.

“Not _now_ ,” he says flustered, and knowing full well he's lying like a dog. “I just need to _think_.”

She snorts.

“ _Excuse_ me?” he scoffs, pressing down hard on her with his hips.

“I can’t help doing this,” she says, equally galled. “I’m…”

“What?”

“It _feels_ good, I can’t help it,” she breathes. “ _Kylo_.”

“ _Mistress,_ ” he murmurs, his breath growing heavy on the back of her neck. “I’ve told you to stop it.”

“I’ve told you, I _can’t_.”

He slips two fingers inside her. This is what she wants. This is always what she wants.

“Is this better?”

“It might be,” she struggles.

“You love it when I do this to you. Say it.”

“Yes.”

“ _Kylo_ ,” he prompts, still working his fingers. “Say it.”

It takes her a moment but at last she gets the word out, in between the ragged breaths.

“ _Kylo_.”

“Say it again,” he murmurs, his own breath growing heavier now.

“Kylo,” she repeats, as he feels her pushing harder at his hand, actively sliding herself up and along his deeply buried fingers.

In his head, he goes through some options as he listens to her start to moan softly and feels her body continue to rock below him. The scent issuing from the place behind her ear is now no less than fucking delicious.

He slides his fingers out.

“Please,” she moans. “ _Kylo_.”

But there are things he’d rather do now than this, and he contemplates two of them as he brings his hand to his mouth and slowly sucks her from him. The first one is obvious. His cock is millimeters from the warm, satiny entrance to her cunt. The idea of shifting just slightly enough to be able to slip it inside her is almost too much to resist as he continues to feel her rhythmic movements below him, smell her and hear her obvious disapproval at what he’s just done. Ended it so abruptly. Left her wanting more.

But he misses her gaze. Her impossible warmth around his digits, the softness of every part of her body he can think of - perhaps bar her teeth - even the sound of her voice as she says his name, no matter which one; none of that compares to what he feels when Rey looks at him and he realizes now that the first time he fucks her proper, he wants to see her. To look at her. To nuzzle and kiss her mouth. To brush his lips against her own. And mostly, he wants to gaze deep into her wide hazel eyes while he comes. That’s the second option.

And so with her still caught up in a show of expressive protest below him, he lifts his body from her and takes his mouth to the cleft of her arse, licking her from there all the way up and to the back of her neck and then settling down on her again to whisper six words in her ear.

“You’re beautiful, Rey. Please, turn around.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really needed some Kylo.  
> Thank you for the continued reads, kudos and comments. Very much appreciated xx


	17. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 5. Part 5 of 6. Rey.  
> 

The lowest registers of Ben’s voice are remarkably convincing but still Rey doubts what she’s just heard even though she can sense he means it. Will he mean it tomorrow? Familiar uncertainties needle at the edges of her confidence, fraying the already fragile trust she’s placed in Ben. That trust worries her. It always has.

_Why don’t you trust me?_

_Fuck,_ she thinks. _Get out for a minute._

_Why do you hate me in your head so much? You really like me in other places._

Rey attempts to ignore him. Her body is still face down and pinned gently below him.

“Please turn around,” he requests again.

 _“Mistress,”_ she reminds him.

“Mistress,” he repeats.

Still cautious, she pushes up gently, to let Ben know she’s ready, and then he lets her turn around to face him before laying his massive frame possessively above her once more. His face is still close. His warm skin soaks her like a sun, almost making her yearn for relief until she remembers what it’s like when he’s gone and she’s cold.

“You don’t have to call me _Kylo_ anymore,” he says quietly, as he looks at her with eyes that are wide and clear. “I just…”

“I know,” she breathes.

She feels Ben brush his lips against hers, still watching. His unflinching gaze is unnerving. Is that what’s causing her to worry?

“You’re still afraid of me,” he murmurs.

“What?”

“You’re still afraid of me,” he says again.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Why are you still afraid?”

“I’m _not_ ,” she says, bothered once more and knowing that if it weren’t for his damn mouth on her neck every five seconds she would have walked to the sonic long ago, dressed herself and vanished.

“Not as easy as that though, is it?”

“Shut up,” she breathes.

“You _love_ it,” he murmurs. “You love being with me.”

“I've never said that.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“I’ve told you,” she says, frustrated. “It _feels_ good...”

“And that’s what you’re afraid of?” he asks. “Feeling good?

“I’m not telling you.”

“Or feeling good with me?”

“I’ve _told_ you, I’m not telling you.”

“You’re afraid to tell me.”

“Ben, _stop_ _it…”_

“Please tell me, Rey,” he presses, bringing his face so close now that she can feel his lashes brush against the skin of her cheek as he lowers his mouth to her neck again.

“I can’t say it, I don’t know how.”

She vaguely recalls the device being fitted, long ago on Jakku. How long did they last? She’d heard rumors of herbal preparations. What were they? And where the hell did you get them? Would Chewie know? Would Leia? But does she want to go there? Not really… Perhaps she should just take her chances that whatever was fitted would still be... operating.

Ben has gone unusually quiet. She knows he’s heard everything. He presses his lips lightly to her neck again. She can feel them move against her skin when he finally speaks.

 _“That’s_ what you’re afraid of?”

“I know the inside of your head, Ben, just as well as you know the inside of mine.”

“What?” he murmurs, before beginning to lick her. _What the hell does that mean?_

She can’t help but shudder as the thrill of his licking runs through her.

“I heard you,” she breathes, as her mouth works its way back to his, and not because she wants it to. She can’t help it when he does that with his tongue.

Rey sighs. He wanted to… _inside_ her. She squirms below him. He’s still hard and she’s still wet. She would definitely prefer to be doing something else now than having this conversation with him.

 _And now we’re even,_ he thinks acidly.

“Shut up, Ben,” she breathes again.

He stops licking and brings his face back out from within her hair to stare meaningfully at her again.

“I won’t do that then, Rey. If you really don’t want me to.”

“But that’s what _you_ want _,”_ she says cautiously and growing unsure. “That’s why you want me _here_. Isn’t it?”

“No,” he urges, his gaze intensifying and once more she feels unnerved by how much it penetrates her.

 _Penetration…_ she thinks, squirming again.

“You know why I want you here, Rey.”

“Ben, I _don’t,”_ she cuts, confusion rising and feeling less and less able to find the right words. “I _thought_ I did. You keep showing me things, and asking me to _do_ things, but they’re things I can’t... I’m not _ready_ to do.”

“Because when you’re gone I miss you,” he sighs, and he rolls onto his side then and gazes across at her.

_“What?”_

“And that’s what I want...  _why_ I want you here, Rey.”

She is reminded of their second night together on Kashyyyk as she’d looked at the stars and Ben had looked there, too, and they’d just laid side by side and imagined that things were _different._ Just _imagined._ And then it hits her. Ben is _still_ imagining.

“Those things in your head,” she begins. “Do you really want to do them?”

He says nothing, still gazing across at her. She rolls in toward him and he works his arms around her and wraps her in close but Rey can still see his eyes as they look down at hers and then she drops her own and says the next part to his chin. Somehow, it’s easier. Talking to his chin.

“Have you ever done them before?” she whispers.

When the muscles in Ben’s chest tighten, she knows the answer.

“You don’t need to say it,” she says softly, looking up at him.

His eyes are brimming again and Rey feels something in her melt then, maybe everything. She touches her fingers to the warm skin of his chest, feeling the firm muscle and tracing the familiar scars. If she closed her eyes she could probably trace it all, she knows it all that well by now. By heart.

“You’re beautiful, too, Ben,” she murmurs, talking now to his chest.

 _Yes,_ she thinks. _This is definitely easier._

“And I’m afraid of that,” she finally admits.

She can feel it there, on the edge of her mind, just shy enough not to show. Like an ocean swell that can’t break as a wave but is tumultuous nonetheless. It’s there, and Rey lifts her gaze up to meet Ben’s now.

“But it’s not something I can say yet,” she whispers.

“That’s okay,” he breathes back, eyes still brimming. “I can’t say it yet either.”

Rey brings her hand to Ben’s lower lip. Her fingers hover just above it. Then she lifts her face to his mouth and kisses him deeply.

 _I will say it, though,_ she confesses again. _I will definitely say it. One day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More on the way. I will probably keep tweaking til the next one is up. Parts of this are attempts to set up for later chapters. Hopefully this bit will work as a little bridge between 16 and 18.  
> Thanks for the continued reads, you’re amazing and valued xx


	18. Ben

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 5. Part 6 of 6. Ben.

He doesn’t mean to, but as Ben kisses Rey back he imagines her again as he opens wider to search for her tongue with his own. He pictures the soft warmth of her mouth around the head of his cock. At first, she would lick him there – just like she’s doing now to his own mouth – and then she would suck him hard before easing off until she finished him off by skiffing away at his glans, with her lips wrapped over her teeth.

As Ben hears her moan softly below him, he knows these thoughts have reached her. Is she thinking of Kylo, who could probably get her to do that, or is she thinking of Ben, who can only dream it up?

He breaks their kiss and sighs out in frustration, burying his head in her hair. He’s aching and uncomfortable, and she’s unsure again. He feels her shifting below him and he reaches for the outer part of the thigh she’s just lifted and strokes it once with his fingertips before closing his palm down on it. She is so impossibly soft there, too.

Ben feels her do the same with the other thigh – lift it – so that now he is between them. He can feel it again, what happened last night when she’d wanted to talk but he was already halfway there. The head of his cock is wet again – but she’s wrapping her calves around his hips now and pulling him closer – and he’s so close already, in more ways than one; it’s impossible to stop it now.

_Maker._

He’s so hard he doesn’t even need to guide it. Both his big palms are pressed flat to her outer hips and Ben simply slides inside Rey.

_Mistress._

And then suddenly the galaxy is the warmest place he’s ever known.

 _Ben,_ he barely hears her think, as his mind is emptied of everything but the pleasure he now feels as Ben begins to fuck Rey.

Somewhere below him he can feel her arcing her torso and raising her chest off his bed. His mouth – opened by the shock of the feeling of her silky cunt fitting snugly around him as his length slipped into her – fumbles for something but can’t seem to choose what, or indeed a direction in which to go to get it. She starts to move on him then and he thinks he groans her name as he feels himself coming too soon.

Caught in the climax, he’s slow to react. Ben jerks himself back from her roughly, hardly having time to put a hand to it as he starts to spill over her thighs and then eventually her belly but he’s late on that, too, and now she’s covered in it. Nothing goes through Ben’s head now. He simply stares down at the mess as she continues moving rhythmically and before she knows about it; what’s happened. Before she’s aware of what he’s done too early. Maybe this didn’t happen.

_Make it a vision, for fuck’s sake, please._

He looks down at her again but the horror of reality is all still there. His semi-hard dick, his cum all over her blushed skin and now – worst of all, if that were possible – her hazel eyes wide with not pleasure but shock as the situation dawns on Rey. Ben watches as she starts to lift herself up to look, but he places a hand between her breasts and halts her.

“Please, just…” he breathes, words failing him, like just about everything else of his that has resulted in this fucking situation. “Stay there, I’ll… get something.”

“Ben…” she murmurs, still breathing heavily and sitting awkwardly up on her elbows, as he fumbles for the rag he keeps in his drawer, now doubly ashamed, but there’s nothing else nearby to clean it up with and this is what he keeps it for, after all.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, struggling for oxygen now as he begins to wipe the semen from the skin of her stomach.

“Ben, I can do that…” she starts sympathetically, reaching for his hand.

He can feel his eyes prickling as gently she closes her hand around his palm and coaxes the rag from it, wiping away the mess down her thighs and re-wiping the places he’d started on before she’d taken over. Kneeling above her, he watches as she tosses the sticky cloth to the floor of his chambers and then sits herself up before she tries to pull him to her. But he pulls away.

“I’ll start the ‘fresher,” he mumbles, beginning to shift his hips and bringing his bare feet to the cold of the durasteel floor, preparing to stand and walk away. “You should wash before you go.”

_“What?”_

She is gripping his arm.

“Rey, please…” he murmurs, still unable to meet her eyes, mortified by what he’s just done. Or failed to do.

“No,” she says softly.

“What do you mean _no?”_

“I mean _no,_ Ben. As in _no.”_

“Rey…”

“Lie down,” she says.

“What?”

“You heard me,” she pleads, as he hears her voice start to crack, knowing all too well what the sound of that means and certainly not needing to look at it unfold. “Don’t pretend you didn’t.”

“You don’t want me to do that, Rey, you want to go…”

“Do not,” she starts, her voice shaking now, “Tell me anymore what I do and don’t want to do, Ben.”

The tears in his own eyes threaten again. Even so, he can finally look at Rey now. He’s not sure why, but it’s something about the tone. Through the sounds of the tears in her voice, it’s confident. In the face of his own miserable failure, she’s lifting him. And he knows that it’s not the first time.

How it’s possible to feel worse than he already does Ben can’t think, but he knows that he will if he turns on Rey now. If he ignores her request and goes regardless to the ‘fresher to start it. He can’t. She’s too important to him. And even though he wants nothing more for himself now than to break things to within an inch of their lives – maybe stop not even there – he takes a long slow breath and pushes that away.

 _Please don’t cry_ , he thinks, as his first tears fall.

“Lie down, Ben,” she says softly. “Please.”

He creeps back to her and curls himself around her as she nestles into his chest and he lifts the bedding around them, tucking it up around her back and feeling her do the same to him. He brushes his damp cheek to hers and feels her lift her hand, wiping it dry with her gentle fingers and then bringing her mouth to his.

Ben feels her lips touch his softly. She leaves light kisses across him, before bringing her mouth to the scar at his cheek and doing the same there. Just lightly. She says nothing, just kisses. And after some time, Ben uncurls his body and stretches out on his back, pulling her in but not really needing to because she moves like one half of something magnetic, to the spot where she always rests when they do.

Snuggled now to his chest, Ben feels Rey stretch herself out on her side along him, nestling her cheek on his shoulder and bringing her thigh over one of his. She runs her toes softly over his own as her hand begins to stroke the skin of his stomach, over his hip and down his thigh, and then back again. Ben closes his eyes as he feels her touch soothe him.

And as Ben falls asleep, with Rey in his arms, he thinks he could say it to her then. And he wonders if he should, as he hears her thinking the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eep. More soon. They’ll be okay in the end I promise.  
> Thanks for the continued readership, kudos and comments on this work. Greatly appreciated xx


	19. Absence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 6. Rey.

Rey lies once more on the unyielding floor of the jungle. Even after the rain it still feels as brutal as his absence does now, and she wonders again where he is. She hasn’t yet tried to reach out through the Force to find him. She is too caught up in a cycle and again she goes anxiously through it as she shifts for the umpteenth time on the unrelenting earth of Kashyyyk.

It starts with the thought he is busy, even though she thinks she knows he isn’t. All he does these days is read reports, or that’s what he’d said he did that time she thought to ask him about his day. With Ben, as they’d laid there and he’d held her last night she had thought about day. She thinks again of what he’s doing. She wishes she could ask.

Is that what he does all the time now in day? She knows what he does in night. Does he still fight in day? He _has_ to still be training, his body is so _hard…_

 _Stop it,_ she thinks, shaking her head to try to clear it.

Then she thinks that he’s just still far too embarrassed about what happened last night to connect with her again. Should she have known it would happen? She wraps her hand around the firm muscle of her triceps and traces the damn thing now with a thumb. Should she not have thought of it, so that he wouldn’t have thought he had to… do _that?_ It probably would have been a lot less messy if he’d just…

And then Rey thinks it’s her. It’s her fault he isn’t here. She’s made Ben vulnerable, for one time too many, and now he’s left her at last and for good. She’s lost Ben for good – and to Kylo Ren, of all things – and then her thoughts return to the First Order. To what he’s doing there and for them. And the whole miserable thing starts again.

She rolls over, uncomfortable again on the ground. It exists in such stark contrast to the softness of the bed in Ben’s chambers. Perhaps she could double over the blanket, make it twice as thick below her. She’d still have enough left to wrap around her, not that the planet is cold tonight and so not that she really needs it above her; the air is warm. But the blanket reminds her of Ben now. He’d washed and dried it. It smells like his chambers. She remembers him above her…

 _Fucking stop it,_ she thinks again.

She rolls onto her back and looks up at no stars – the clouds from the recent rain have not yet cleared and that’s trapped the warmth. She’s bothered. Is she just too warm? Is that what’s wrong with her? Rey flicks the blanket down her body and it lands around her bare midriff. She notices how scratchy the weave of it is compared to the smooth ones belonging to Ben. Had he commented on that once? That her blanket was scratchy? Or just filthy? Or had that been another thing she’d found in his head? She can’t remember. Nights are beginning to blur.

She reaches down, meaning to push the blanket off her skin and let it rest on the gauze of her lower undergarment. Instead, she stares at her fingers. She feels the top weave with their tips as she rubs the lower surface with a thumb. Her fingers are much smaller than Ben’s. She supposes they’re long enough for her but he has _very_ long fingers…

 _Fuck,_ she thinks, casting nervous glances either side of her as a new thought occurs. _Ben does have a very long…_

She tugs the blanket up to her chin and rolls over, curling into a ball and then tucking her head below. She’d seen it when they’d been in the ‘fresher. It had looked long then. But then when he had slid it inside her it had seemed _very_ long. Was that because he’d just done it slowly? Just that part? Had he just entered her really slowly because neither of them had ever…

She thinks of it again, the feeling of him sliding himself into her. Not his fingers, his… _cock._ And for some reason that makes her think about her saber. It’s… _phallic._

 _But it’s broken,_ she thinks. _So there goes that idea._

Maker, did she actually just have that thought? She tucks her face further below the blanket, feeling it burn. Something else is burning too and she begins to wriggle. Rey thinks again about his long fingers inside her. She isn’t quite sure, it had been over so fast, but she’s pretty sure that although his cock had felt good, it was his fingers that drove her the craziest. The thought of them now is doing it again but she can’t have his fingers; Ben isn't here.

 _Fuck,_ she thinks again, well beyond bothered now and she’s aware that at some point her hips have started circling in small, slow figure-eights, and at last she’s forgotten about the painful ground below.

She wonders what it would be like to do what he wanted her to do two nights ago – when she’d been here and he’d been in his chambers – and he’d suggested she was… touching herself. Under this blanket.

 _“Holy shit,”_ she breathes, as she closes her eyes and slips her hand down the back of her lower garment, thinking of Ben and what he always does to her with his very long fingers…

Half-closing her eyes, she wriggles again so she can reach in between her own thighs and gently work two fingers just inside herself. She's warm.

 _This is what he feels,_ she thinks, holding her breath and slipping them in just a little bit further.

Rey opens her eyes and then closes them again as her mouth goes slack when she begins to rub herself at that place slowly, imagining Ben and trying to replicate what he can do. It doesn’t quite feel the same as when he does it, so she wriggles further and then it does. _Then_ it feels deeper, and she begins to arc her body involuntarily in response, just like she does when he’s with her. Just like she does when he's fingering her.

 _“Ben,”_ she can’t help but breathe into her pillow, but it’s barely a whisper and it catches in her throat and as she comes, she presses her lips to the surface of the pillow and kneads at it softly with an open mouth, imagining he’s there and that he’s kissing her back.

 _I love you_ , she thinks, still kissing softly and missing him terribly as tears wet her cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks @leofgyth for the comment inspo on the gifset of Rey getting into the pod with the saber - this happy juxtaposition was pretty much the only inspo for this chapter so I am indebted to you!  
> Thanks too for the continued reads, kudos and comments xx


	20. Garrmorl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 7. Part 1 of 2. Ben.

For nearly a standard week now – since the morning that followed the Battle of Crait – Ben has ensured that the fleet’s time measurement is synchronized with Kashyyyk’s. As he lies on his back in his bed, alone for the second night running, he wonders about whether or not it’s still worth it. He could easily return them to the galactic standard. He could do it right now if he wanted. Does he want it that much? More than he wants Rey now? He knows he doesn’t want to spend another night like this; lonely and not sleeping.

Ben knows he won’t sleep. He might as well rise. He should reset it. It makes more sense for the First Order to be on Coruscant time, plus giving an order will give him something to do. He needs a purpose to pass the standard hours before his own pitiful recollections of the last time he’d seen her become too much again. He’ll do it now.

But his body won’t move. What if she does connect again? The gift still waits for her in his drawer and he sighs as he feels himself return to the same groove he was stuck in for all of last night.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks.

_So how was your day?_

Ben rolls to one side, his heart in his mouth.

 _Touché,_ he quips.

Through his vision of her, lying on her side beneath her blanket on Kashyyyk, Ben watches Rey smile and feels his heart expand. He inhales deeply, and then just as deeply lets the breath go.

 _Makerfucker,_ she thinks, still smiling.

 _I missed you, too,_ he digs.

_Did you really?_

_Of course I fucking did,_ he thinks back. _Did you miss me?_

_I might have._

But he can still see the smile that plays across her face.

 _You did miss me,_ he thinks.

_Where were you?_

_Here._

_What?_ she thinks back.

She looks genuinely shocked. He’s not sure why. Where the fuck else would he be?

 _I was here,_ he thinks again.

_All night?_

_All fucking night._

She grows silent. Ben looks at her through the bond and this continues for some time until he can’t contain it anymore; the wonder at what she’d done last night. Their connection is still just a vision, not strong enough yet for him to know her thoughts without trying to and quite frankly he doesn’t _want_ to know, especially of what she’d thought of him two nights ago. But as sick as he still feels about that humiliation he asks her anyway. He _needs_ to know and there is a difference, between wanting and needing. He is learning that the hard way.

_Did you think about me last night?_

_I might have._

He breathes out shakily. That wasn’t so bad. She could have said no.

 _So, what did you do today?_ he thinks, still nervous.

 _Not much,_ she sighs back. _Every day is the same here. We’re just doing runs. Talking about scouting. No actual scouting._

_Where are your allies?_

_I can’t tell you that, Ben._

_Rey, you know I can find out._

She glares at him and he feels a familiar thrill.

_There is a difference, Ben, between me telling you things and you getting them... unethically._

He snorts. _Unethically?_

_Yes._

He smirks. Then he sees her roll over.

_Oh, that’s how it is, is it?_

She ignores him and he starts to grow frustrated. He has missed her terribly and now he’s pissed her off. Again.

 _Just fucking do it,_ he urges himself, and he reaches over swiftly to remove it from the drawer, tucking it beneath his waistband. He closes his eyes and reaches out.

She is curled in a ball beneath her blanket and – taking a chance – he gently tucks himself in behind her. She’s warm, and she doesn’t try to push him away. He’s relieved by both of these things, remembering how cold she’d been here two nights ago. She wriggles her curved form into him and he bends his own form around hers, letting her snuggle the back of her body into the spoon he makes for it before carefully bringing a hand around her waist to settle it just above her hip.

 _Wow it’s warm here,_ he thinks as he holds her. _What the hell have you got this on for?_

Ben lifts his hand and shifts the blanket, which she’s tucked all the way up to her chin. He tries to pull it down.

 _“Don’t,”_ she whispers tersely, tugging it up again.

“Rey, seriously, it’s _really_ hot here,” he mutters back. “You don’t need this.”

“I _like_ it,” she hisses. _“Stop_ pulling it off me.”

“Well at least it’s _clean_ now,” he says under his breath. “It certainly _smells_ a lot better than it did.”

“You are so rude to me.”

“I was just being honest.”

 _Be quiet, Ben,_ she thinks. _I’m trying to sleep._

“Do you want me to go?” he whispers.

_No. Just be quiet._

For several minutes he is. As she rests, Ben feels her body rise and fall softly with each breath. Then he begins to gently stroke the instep of one of her feet with the sole of his own and she begins to stroke back. She’s not going to sleep. Neither is he.

 _I brought you something,_ he thinks. _Mistress._

She rolls back into him and he yields just a little so that her shoulder rests against his chest. She turns her head to face him. Her eyes are so beautiful in the diffused light of night and for a moment he forgets what he’s doing.

“What?” she whispers, frowning slightly.

He still loves it when she frowns. Then he remembers, and from inside the band of his garment he removes the tiny bottle. She rolls over to face him.

“Garrmorl,” he murmurs, propping himself up on an elbow. “I’ve only tried it once. It’s actually kind of nasty but I thought you'd like it.”

“Fuck you, Ben.”

“That came out wrong, sorry.”

She rolls her eyes.

He opens the bottle and passes it to her, watching her lift it to her mouth and take the tiniest sip before passing it back to him. The aftertaste is rough, but as his own small sip goes down he feels himself relax before offering it to her once more. She takes a second small sip, before passing it back and then he drains the small amount that’s left and lies back and she returns herself to his chest.

As Ben begins to feel the Kashyyykian alcohol slowly affect his body he presses his lips to her hair and feels her press her own to his jaw. He nuzzles at her and tilts his face down and she lifts her chin to meet his mouth, which he opens wide to slowly kiss her, closing his eyes and feeling himself let go. Her kiss grows urgent then and she begins to snake her way above him. Gently, he pushes her back, still kissing, but reminding her of where they are right now: not in his chambers.

 _But if you want to go there, we could,_ he thinks.

 _Maybe soon,_ she thinks back.

After a time, their mouths separate lazily. Rey sinks her head back to his chest and Ben holds her, pressing his lips to her hair again and smelling the faint smell he always smells of something floral in it. He breathes it in as the effect of the Garrmorl continues to work its way slowly through his grateful body.

They look up together at the flat, starless sky and watch as a halo of light from one of the moons begins to emerge through the thinning clouds.

 _That’s beautiful,_ he hears her think, as she gazes up from her place on his chest.

“I’m sorry I left the other night,” he hears her murmur faintly.

“You had to go,” he whispers into her hair. “You’d been there a long time.”

Should he apologize again for what happened? He didn’t really want to think about it now.

“It’s okay, Ben,” she breathes, talking now to his chest. “You don’t have to mention it ever again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have had the idea for this chapter for a little while but been waiting for the right time to use it. Think it might be now.  
> Thanks for the continued reads, kudos and comments xx


	21. Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 7. Part 2 of 2. Rey.

“Put your hands here,” Ben whispers, “And here.”

Just as he’d done to her two nights ago, he places each one exactly where he wants it to go, gently but firmly guiding her by the wrists first before leaving each one palm down on the soft, rich weave of his bedsheet. Rey feels him run his tongue up the center of her bare back, stopping just below her ear.

“Get up on your knees,” he murmurs, brushing the delicate skin with his lips as he speaks, “But don’t move your hands.”

Rey feels his hot breath at the back of her neck and then his big warm palms at her hips as gently he helps her to pull herself up and then shifts her forward, so that her thighs make a right-angle with the surface of his bed.

“Don’t move your hands,” he reminds her, his voice still soft. “What do you say?”

“Yes, Kylo,” she breathes, her forehead resting on his pillow, her bare arse in the temperate air of his chambers.

Rey feels him place a light kiss at the cleft of it before he lifts his hands off her. Then she hears him shift behind her. Is he watching her now? She thinks he is. She can’t see him. Should she lift her head, turn and look at him? She wants to. 

“Not yet,” she hears him say quietly from behind her in his rich, deep voice. “Stay where you are. You look beautiful like this.”

Rey takes a deep, slow breath, letting the air that fills her chest arch her back and the movement makes its way to her hips. As she shifts them she feels a thrum begin between her thighs. It’s warm and it makes her hips move again.

“Keep going,” he breathes, and now she knows he is definitely watching. “ _Mistress_.”

She would have kept moving anyway, regardless of whether or not he’d asked her to. She moves her hips slowly, in small figure-eights, just like she’d done alone last night when she’d thought about Ben and his long fingers inside her.

“Would you like them again?” he asks quietly.

She feels her sex growing wet and her nipples are tightening. Breath begins to catch in her throat and she presses her forehead down on his pillow, rolling forward so that her chin tucks in and her spine curves in a serpentine arc. She hears him sigh softly.

“Yes,” she says very quietly, barely above a whisper.  _Fuck yes_.

Now she can hear him shifting himself on the bed behind her. He is slowly approaching her again. Then she feels his hands once more at her hips and he runs them softly down the skin of both of her outer thighs.

“Yes what?” he murmurs, and she can hear the slight pant in his voice as now he trails the fingertips of one hand up her inner thigh and stops.

“Yes,  _Kylo,”_ she breathes out, rocking herself back on her knees, wanting him inside her.

“I know you do,” he says softly, sympathetically.  _Spread your knees._

She obeys and then feels him touch two fingers lightly to the inside of her folds.

 _“Ben,”_ she can’t help but breathe, rocking back again on her knees.

She feels him place a palm to one cheek of her arse and push her forward slightly, preventing her from backing any further. The fingertips of his other hand are still touched just inside her. She feels him slide them forward, sensing his way to her entrance and then pressing his fingers down firmly just inside it.

“Ben,  _please,”_ she breathes again, trying to push back but unable; he still has his hand on her arse.

Slowly, he slides his fingers all the way up to the third knuckles, then slides them back so the tips rest just inside her entrance once more. She feels him begin to massage her there.

“Do you like this?” he asks softly.

“You _know_ I fucking do,” she whispers, rolling her head forward again on his pillow and pushing back at his hand.

“Do you want it again, Mistress?”

 _“Fuck,_ Ben,” she hisses.  _Yes._

She feels him slide his fingers out, and in frustration lifts herself up from her forearms and to her hands, pushing up off his pillow and turning around.

He is on her like a panther again, pushing her down between her shoulder blades and bringing one powerful forearm beneath her, to hold the lower half of her up off the bed by her hips, so she’s pinned there and still face down on her knees.

She relaxes, liking the way his body feels when he applies it to her like this. Liking the pressure of his arm around her belly and his hard stomach at her back. And she can feel his erection now, pressing at her arse as she hears him breathing heavily with the effort of trying to contain her own substantial power. She thinks he loves it as much as she does.

“I do,” he breathes.

“You are,” she mutters, “Infuriating.”

“You _love_ it,” he replies softly, bringing the hand at the middle of her upper back to her hair, and running his fingers lightly through it, stroking the back of her neck.

Rey sighs into his pillow again, breathing in its scent, the same scent that is now on her blanket.

 _“Fuck_ me, Ben,” she breathes, rolling her head forward on his pillow again.

She feels him shift his hands to her hips, positioning her.

“Spread your knees,” he says again, softly.

“Yes, _Kylo,”_ she breathes, smelling the scent of her blanket again as she presses her forehead down harder, cunt so wet she can just about feel the cream of it begin to run down her thighs.

And he pulls her back by the hips once more and then glides all the way into her, up to his tight balls as she hears the flarion’s call.

_Why would a flarion be on a warship?_

She kisses his pillow with an open mouth and feels it begin to kiss back.

_What?_

Hang on. That isn’t right. But it _is_ right because Ben is definitely kissing her slowly, mouth open, tongue licking gently below her own, slowly and sleepily. She can feel him now, the warm contours of his bare chest below her on the hard floor of the jungle as the smell of his earthy, petrichor scent mingles with the smell of her blanket, and the bird calls again as his hand fumbles groggily up her back, up the nape of her neck, and to her hair.

She smiles and opens one eye, wanting to look at him. But the bright light hurts and she scrunches it closed, not ready for that yet. She kneads his mouth slowly again, thinking more carefully about it. The bright light of day...

“Rey?” she hears Rose say, slowly.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Rose walks in on Rey and Ben kissing.


	22. Just Sometimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 8. Part 1 of 4. Ben.

_What the fuck happened?_

Ben runs through it all again. He knew they’d been caught, he just didn’t know how. He can’t quite figure it out. The last thing he remembers is thinking about her hair again and the scent in it. She’d been watching the planet’s three moons break slowly through the clouds.

Then what? He’d woken to find her kissing him and then they’d heard the Rebel woman, calling her name. He’d felt Rey move jerkily above him. Through the bond she’d urged him to go. He’d opened his eyes then and she’d sworn at him, telling him to leave for a second time, so he had; Ben knew better than to argue with her twice.

But he had no idea how the kissing part had started, and he’s been trying to solve it all day. Why the fuck had she been kissing him in _daytime?_ And why in the fuck had she let him sleep so long? If she’d just woken him earlier, and told him to go, none of the rest of it would ever have even happened.

It must have been the Garrmorl. Ben hadn’t drunk alcohol since the Temple, but he’d wanted to give her something - a gift - and he knew Garrmorl from... before. He remembers the feeling again, of it last night, as it had slipped down his throat to his stomach. The warmth of it and the relaxation that followed; he hadn’t felt that in a long time.

But did it explain the kissing? Or just the sleeping? Ben didn’t  _sense_  it explained the kissing. Something else was going on there and he couldn’t quite see it. Yet.

He sighs as he recalls waking with Rey’s soft mouth on his, kneading gently at him. He thinks of her now, and her mouth, and he shifts his hips slightly as he lies in his bed and feels his cock twitch again. He slides a lonely hand down toward it.

_Ben?_

Rapidly the hand moves away.

 _So, what the fuck happened?_  he thinks again as he rolls over. _“Fuck_ Rey, put some _clothes_ on.”

All she has on is her light lower undergarment.

“It’s _really_ hot there tonight,” she says, with an air of casualness that for some reason impresses him.

“I  _told_  you it was hot,” he says, growing distracted and unable to prevent his eyes from beginning to frequently flick between her own and the bare forms of her chest.

“It was _not_ that hot last night,” she replies dryly, eyes narrowed. “It is _really_ hot there tonight.”

 _It’s hot here now,_ Ben thinks, feeling his mouth go slack as he notes both her scorned expression and the ripening color of her semi-stiff nipples.

 _Now_ he’s distracted. Ben tries to stay focused.

“Did you mind-trick her?”

That had been _his_ first instinct, but she’d told him to leave so he had.

“No.”

“So, what the fuck happened?” he asks, aloud this time - growing impatient - and watching her nipples grow stiffer as the cool temperature in his chambers begins to affect them.

“She doesn’t know who you are,” Rey says, evasively. “She’s never _seen_ you.”

“You mean… without a _mask?”_

He returns his gaze to her own, her nipples temporarily forgotten.

“Yes,” Rey says. “And she still has no idea. I certainly didn’t  _tell_  her.”

“So how’d you explain the vanishing?”

“She didn’t ask.”

 _“What?”_ he asks, incredulous.

“She didn’t ask,” Rey repeats.

“You should have just mind-tricked her.”

“That’s _not_ the right thing to do, Ben.”

“Not the _right_ thing to do?”

“No.”

“Rey, she would turn you in as a traitor in a heartbeat. Is _that_ the right thing to do?”

“No she wouldn’t, Ben.”

“Of _course_ she fucking would, Rey,” he urges, leaning in to her. “So, how will you explain it when she _does_ see me?”

“Why? When’s she going to see you? What are you planning to do?”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Ben says, reaching a hand to one of her breasts, meaning to tweak softly with his fingers at the nipple there.

 _“Why not?”_ Rey scorns, shooing the hand away. “Because you _are_ planning to do something?”

“I’m not planning anything!”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“How do you know you can trust _her?”_

“Because she’s my _friend,_ Ben.”

“Well what the fuck then, Rey? What the fuck am _I?_ Why can’t you trust _me?”_

She looks on the verge of tears now.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks.

He wants to reach out to her. Should he do that? Maybe not. He tries something else instead.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes. “This is my fault.”

“How the fuck is it your fault? I fell asleep too.”

Well that went well. He sighs.

“I should never have brought the Garrmorl,” he mutters. “If we hadn’t drunk that...”

“But it was _nice,”_ she breathes. “And it was nice afterwards. It was nice to just... fall asleep with you, Ben.”

He watches her lean forward and then her mouth is on his. She kisses softly at his lower lip, tracing her tongue over it very lightly. Then she moves herself closer to his body and he can’t help but wrap his arms around her, flattening his palms to the smooth, bare skin of her back and feeling her bare chest press up against his own.

“I had this _crazy_ dream about you,” she whispers, nuzzling her face into his hair.

 _“What?”_ he asks, not quite sure he actually heard her say that.

Ben nuzzles her neck in return, caught up in the scent of her again. He senses something. Is she _nervous?_ Vaguely – thinking – he begins to work his thigh gently between her own. And then suddenly he understands.

“Oh, _I_ see...,” he says, slowly. “You had a _dream_ about me...”

“Yes,” she breathes.

 _“Show_ me,” he whispers.

“No.”

But their connection by now is too strong and her thoughts are there in his mind already.

“Holy _shit,”_ he breathes.

She works her face out from his neck and presses her lips to his jaw. He tilts his own face to hers to find her mouth, opening his own slowly around it as he looks deep into her eyes.

_Do you want me to do that to you?_

_No,_ she thinks back _. Of course not._

_You seemed to like it in your dream._

_I did like it._

_Then let me do it to you,_ he thinks.

_You don’t have to._

_I know,_ he thinks again. _But I want to. Mistress._

He feels her open her mouth wider and he does the same. Her tongue strokes the underside of his own and he lets her snake her way above him, as she’d tried to do last night before he’d reminded her gently that they hadn't been here in his chambers.

_Remember that time when I...?_

_Yes,_ she thinks, as she continues to work away at his mouth and he brings a hand to her breast and palms it.

 _That was good,_ he thinks back, shifting his palm slightly so that he can lightly tweak her nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

 _Really good,_ she thinks back, beginning to rub herself slowly along the top of his thigh, which he still has snugged between her own.

_Rey?_

_Yes?_

_Do you really like calling me Kylo?_

_Yes,_ she thinks. _But just sometimes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More in response to the prompt: Rose walks in on Rey and Ben kissing. But since she’s never seen Ben without his mask, she doesn’t realize who he is.  
> If anyone has a prompt for this fic, I'm up for it! xx


	23. Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 8. Part 2 of 4. Rey.  
> In response to ‘Games’ set by @two-halves-of-reylo this week.

Rey grazes her teeth over the skin of Ben’s lower lip and feels him tense. This is similar to how they’d started out the first time and she knows he likes it. Perhaps if she reminds him of this part – the part he’d liked – he won’t think about the other part, that he’s still struggling to forget. Mouth already slack, he opens it a fraction further now and lets her begin to tug.

Ben likes her to cause him pain, but Rey’s intention is never to hurt him – the pain just needs to be enough to arouse him – and although she can feel that’s starting to happen anyway, it doesn’t only mean making him hard. That’s the wrong approach. She’s learned this from experience. They both have. It needs to be much subtler than that. They need to play a game.

It needs to begin with pain that she causes him. That’s why he likes it when she frowns. When she scorns him. When she tells him to get fucked, or when she ignores him. He thrives on that. It sparks his interest. It’s the first rule of the game.

Rey likes it when he lets her choose things. Where will she cause the pain? She’s chosen his lip again now, but she knows she can choose something else if she wants. He’ll let her. She thrives on that. It makes her feel powerful. That’s the second rule of the game.

Ben also likes to ask for her permission. That’s why she lets him call her _Mistress_ these nights and why she’s begun to grant his requests, knowing that when he asks it’s because he means to please her. He’s at her mercy then. It’s the third rule.

And they both know now that she likes to call him _Kylo._ But just sometimes, maybe only when they play this game.

 _Please keep doing that,_ Rey thinks, as still she holds Ben’s lower lip firmly between her teeth and he continues to play softly with one of her nipples.

At last she lets him go and he brings his mouth to the spot where she likes it to be, just below her ear.

“Do you want this as well,” he breathes. _“Mistress?”_

“Yes,” she murmurs.  

“Yes, _what?”_ he whispers back, placing his lips to the delicate skin of her neck and breathing in her scent. “Say it.”

“Yes, _Kylo,”_ she says, under her breath, as then she feels his tongue begin to lick.

Rey sighs. She can feel the familiar thrum this causes when he touches her in the right spots like this. Although she’s already half-straddled him, her muscles are giving in and her spine is arcing familiarly as she tries to curve away innately from his maddening touch before he tugs her back gently by the nipple.

“No,” she hears him say, softly. “Not quite yet.”

She wants to find his mouth and kiss him like she did when they’d drunk Garrmorl on Kashyyyk, slowly and lazily. But it’s hard. It’s hard to focus on that goal. Just like he had three nights ago Ben has managed to render Rey completely helpless to his touch.

As Ben continues to pull her nipple softly, mouth still at her neck, Rey feels the familiar run of his big, warm palm down her flank, over the lissome form of her hip and to the back of her, beneath her light lower garment. His hand is well practised at this by now and she holds her breath, knowing what’s about to come. And also knowing that he’s about to slide two of his very long fingers inside her.

 _“Please,”_ she breathes. _Do it now._

“Please _what?”_ he murmurs, teasing her terribly as he dips the tips of them in.

“Please, _Kylo,”_ she begs, as she feels his dreadfully long fingers slide deftly inside her convivial cunt.

_Fuck yes._

But there’s a final rule to the game. More of a… condition, really: technically. You don’t _say_ it. You only _think_ it. And if you _think_ you’re going to say it, you think that too.

Rey feels Ben slide his fingers along her several times, still kissing and tugging at her with his other hand, and then he settles the tips of his fingers just inside her entrance and begins to massage her there, like she knows he understands by now is what she both wants and needs him to do.

 _“Ben,”_ she breathes, tilting her head back.

 _Please look at me,_ he thinks, as he eases his mouth away from her neck, and eases his fingers off too.

It is now that Rey remembers the condition: what it means you have to do. But she’s not quite there yet, she’s only close; is Ben? But that’s beside the point now because there are still some maneuvers to go before one of them might need to go there. To... strategize, which is what it takes to use the condition. She thinks it will probably be her. She can’t imagine it from Ben. Not yet, anyway. But maybe he’s becoming more… _open_ to using it. Maybe she is, too.

Rey knows Ben can hear what she wants. She’s not sure if that’s a curse or a blessing. It might be both. But it’s happening quickly. Does she want to slow down?

 _No,_ she thinks. _Keep going. Please._

“Say it,” he breathes.

_“Kylo.”_

It only takes that - two syllables formed by her larynx and lips – plus three of Ben’s fingers, one thumb and his mouth, to start the climax. Rey feels him press down on the muscles that have begun to tremor just inside her entrance and beneath his knowing fingers. She can’t help but hold her breath as it happens, and she has to force the sound out to say his name.

 _“Ben,”_ she exhales, into the clinical air of his chambers as still she holds his gaze.

As the warmth of it all washes through her - the sweat creeping up the bare skin of her back and down the backs of her thighs – and as she drops her head before lifting it again to gaze at him through strands of her disheveled hair, she thinks she will apply the condition. And then, Rey thinks again.

“I love you,” Rey says, looking deep into his dark and brimming eyes as she throws out the rule book for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for putting up with this fic xx


	24. Second Chance Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 8. Part 3 of 4. Ben.

How it’s possible for his mouth to be this dry and yet his eyes so fucking wet he doesn’t know but suddenly, to Ben, it’s as though every skerrick of moisture that was definitely there a moment ago has gone straight up. Can she sense that? Perhaps it’s why she’s barely drawn breath between the final word of what she’s just said and the kiss she now gives him.

Her thighs are spread either side of his lower abdomen and Ben knows she’s resting on her knees; he feels her warm sex brush casually over his length as she moves above him. But it’s not purposeful. It’s just happening, as her mouth kneads him deeply, her hands at his face and his hands on her, one still beneath her light lower garment and the other on the nape of her neck, working its way gently through the back of her hair.

Ben feels her pull her mouth away as he pulls the gauze down her thighs before she takes over and removes it completely and then settles back down astride him and on her knees, her gaze still on him as slowly he watches her bare her teeth. Carefully, she grazes them across his lower lip. His stomach clenches and his heart rockets to his mouth as the moisture he thought had all gone to his eyes is suddenly flooding back into it. His cock is briefly forgotten as she bites down slowly until he feels the familiar pain. And she holds him there with her teeth, still looking at his brimming eyes.

 _Mistress,_ he thinks, and that’s all.

One of her hands begins to run its way softly down his mighty chest. He feels the pads of her soft fingers press appreciatively against the contoured forms of his abdominals, sometimes running lightly across them but mostly just on a fated course down his body until they reach his upper thigh. He feels her hand linger at this place, brushing against the taught skin that sheaths the firm muscle along his groin. Ben sighs her name.

Rey brings her mouth back to him then, brushing her lips along his and murmuring something he can’t quite make out. And just like she’d done three nights ago, here in his chambers after the first time – and as he’d sunk dejectedly into sleep – she strokes him along the top of his thigh again. But nothing of that night’s in Ben’s mind now as at last it comes back to life, and although his cock’s hard, as she takes him in her hand and brings him to her entrance, this time he’s only just starting.

 _You want me like this?_ he thinks. _Mistress?_

_Yes._

“Yes _what?”_ he cues. _Say it._

“Yes, _Kylo,”_ she responds, as she guides him lovingly inside her and seats herself all the way down to his balls.

 _“Fuck,”_ he breathes out slowly, tilting his head back and losing sight of her briefly.

 _Look at me,_ she thinks.

He feels her begin to nestle her hips around him.

 _“Say it,”_ he breathes.

“Please, _Kylo,”_ she exhales, as she leans back on his hilt.

As Ben feels Rey begin to slide up his full length for the first time, he slowly opens his eyes to meet hers once more. Hooded and soft, they stare into his own as he feels her reach the end of him at last and then pause. They both hold their breath as she holds him there, and then just as slowly she begins to slide down him. He feels the head of his cock press itself firmly along the soft, warm wall of her cunt, snug around him, yielding, and yet at the same time resisting just enough to make them both want her to do it again.

 _“Mistress,”_ he breathes.

“If you want me to you have to say _please_ first,” she says stubbornly, but Ben can hear the pant beginning in her voice.

 _“Fuck,”_ he murmurs, his own speech just as affected. _“Please.”_

“Please _what?”_ she says, lifting her hips and pushing up with her knees to slowly raise herself along his generous length again.

Ben tips his head back, less severely this time so his eyes can still lock on hers as she holds him there for longer than before.

“Please, _Mistress,_ ” he begs.

Rey shifts her hips forward a fraction and then begins to descend on him for a second time. But the angle has changed just enough so that just before she does it, the head of him catches briefly at her entrance and they both inhale. The stretch is almost painful until she moves herself back and then he skiffs inside her, and each of them gasps again as it happens. Ben sees her almost close her eyes as her shoulders tip forward for the briefest moment before she corrects the sudden, involuntary movement to reclaim the territory.

 _“Rey…”_ he purrs.

As he breathes her name again Ben watches her lift herself along him once more but when she reaches his tip this time, she tilts her hips forward without halting so that she slides down him in one lithe movement. She’s beginning a rhythm along him. It’s slow and flowing, and as he watches her repeat it he also knows his gaze is slave to what she looks like while she does it.

“You _are,”_ he says, breathily, and barely above a whisper, “So _fucking_ beautiful when you do that.”

Ben sees Rey smile and close her eyes. And for a few moments he thinks he’ll let her keep them that way, hypnotized as he is now by her body, while it undulates above him. He feels her spread her palms across his stomach, pressing her thumbs down on either side of his navel and stretching her fingers lightly around his flanks, brushing tenderly over him there. He feels the tiny thrills this causes and they meet the much bigger one that’s beginning to build beneath the base of his cock and suddenly tactile sensations begin to rush to that place, the one that’s still inside her.

Ben can feel his heart. It hammers in his chest now. His lip begins to tremble and he can hear his own rapid breath in his ears. As he watches her open her eyes, sensing him, he begins to also sense the familiar feeling of what it’s like to come. But it’s different. And all of the times that he’s come before this suddenly race through his mind. And he knows she can see them all. All the times he was alone and jerking it off with his hand. And then the one time with her.

 _“Ben,”_ she murmurs. _I want you to come inside me._

 _“What?”_ he exhales, his mind snapping back to reality as thoughts he’s heard in her head crash back to him.

 _It’s okay,_ she thinks. _I promise._

“Rey, _don’t_ say…” he starts, but she already is.

“Please, _Kylo,”_ he hears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More soon x


	25. Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 8. Part 4 of 4. Rey.

It will be fine.

_No it won’t ._

_Don’t interrupt,_  she cuts.

And maybe then he’ll say it back because she’ll have given him what he wants. But she knows she’ll still be fine even if he doesn’t say it back. Totally fine.

 _No, you won’t,_  he intrudes for a second time.

_Shut up, Ben. I’m thinking._

She is  _certainly_  fine with the fact that he hasn’t said it back yet.

 _Said nobody ever,_  he interjects for a third time.

She ignores him because being ignored is _not_  what he wants.

_What? Surely even you can appreciate the irony in that thought right now._

_“Even_  me?” she pants. “What the fuck is _that_  supposed to mean?”

“Well, in case you haven’t heard of it, irony is when…”

“I’ve  _fucking_  heard of it, Ben,” she huffs, as she glares at him furiously, astride him still, and rocking slowly.

She imagines what would happen if she let him win this. First, his palms would grip her roughly, probably by the hips, and he would push her rapidly up and off him in one abrupt movement.

 _Maker,_  she would hear him think. Or maybe  _Mistress._

She would want to say something – maybe the thing again – but her mind would be emptied by the shock of his sudden ejection so instead she would probably just watch Ben bring a hand quickly to himself. Would it still be wet? Probably… Anyway, so he might tug it firmly twice or maybe more – she didn’t  _really_  know, she was just guessing – before he tipped his head back in resignation, eyes narrowing but still on her and she would lift herself up and go swiftly up his body to lean over and place her hands at either side of his big shoulders.

 _Don’t look away,_  she’d hear him urge her.

 _I won’t,_ she’d reassure him.

Then, if she let him win this, Rey would watch him as he came. Actually, she’d do that no matter who won and therefore where he came – out or in – but if it was out, and she did let him win, she would probably feel his forearm slow down after that until just a few weak strokes were left in him. After that she’d take her mouth closer to his, still watching him but not yet kissing. She’d look down into Ben’s dark eyes as one of them would do that twitch thing it did sometimes, when he was emotional. And they’d brim. But most likely he’d blink back the tears because she’d only ever seen them spill once. It wasn’t a habit with him, like it was with her.

"You’re beautiful, Ben," she’d say softly because she knew that was true, loss or win, out or in.

If she let him win, and she said that then, straight after that she'd want to kiss him. She'd want to drive her tongue to the back of his throat, just like she’d done three nights ago, and knead at his lips until she ran out of oxygen, and so did he. But maybe he wouldn't want that then.

 _“Stop,”_  he might say hurriedly, preventing her with the hand that wasn’t still around his dick from getting that close, close enough to lay her belly flat and kiss him, as instead of sucking at his face with all the Light she possessed she'd watch him lift his head up off his pillow and look down.

She would look down, too, and then shift her body to one side as he tried to hold her off the cum coating his stomach in milky, haphazard pools.

“Do you want me to get the…  _thing?”_  she’d ask, trying to find a way to phrase it politely.

Then what would happen? He hated that thing. She remembered from last time, when he’d acted so disgusted by her as she’d wiped herself with it. So…

 _“No,”_ was what he’d likely say, and instead he’d get up and go by himself to the ‘fresher.

 _I want you to come inside me,_  Rey thinks again now.

 _No,_  he thinks back.  _It’s not what you want._

 _Surely even you,_ she starts,  _Can appreciate the irony…_

_Give me just a small break, Rey._

“It  _is_  what I want, Ben,” she says softly, still moving decisively above him.

“I can’t do this for much longer…”

 _“Please,”_ she whispers.

“Stop it,” he breathes, tipping his head back in frustration.

“But you’re not _listening…”_

“No, not _that,”_ he huffs.

“What?”

“Don’t fucking move for a minute.”

_“What?”_

“You fucking heard me,” he gasps, breathing hard. “Stop fucking _wriggling…”_

“You want me to…?”

“You want me to explain this, or not?”

“Okay,” she says, and slows.

“Just don’t fucking move _anything_ for a minute,” he pants, “Or I’ll come.”

She stills her body with everything she has.

“I can’t come inside you,” he murmurs.

A familiar lump forms in Rey’s throat and hot tears begin to well in her eyes

“Why not?” she says, struggling to breathe.

“Because I fucking  _care_  about you, Rey," he mutters, still breathing hard. “And I don’t want to fight you anymore.”

“I don’t want to fight you either,” she says, tears falling now. “I just want you to trust me.”

“I already do…,” he whispers.

She takes a deep breath.

“I have this thing in my arm.”

“I know,” he murmurs.

“And there’s some herbal thing, I think Rose would know it and I just feel like it’s okay…”

“Are you  _sure?”_  he whispers again.

“Yes.”

“Are you  _really_  sure because I really can’t…”

 _“Yes,”_  she repeats, as she starts to move above him again. _“Kylo.”_

“Oh,  _fuck,_ ” he exhales, tipping his head back again.  _“Mistress…”_

It feels warm, just like the rest of Ben, as he thrusts his hips up and starts to finish inside her at last. The rest of his chambers are terribly cold but not where they are now. She watches him as his lower lip trembles, unable to keep her mouth from his any longer as she lays herself down and opens it around him, feeling him drive his tongue straight to the back of her throat and his hands run through the back of her hair, pressing her to him.

After some time, Rey’s head comes to rest on his shoulder. They sweat lightly together in the close heat of the air that surrounds them, just breathing. And as she wonders how long before day breaks on Kashyyyk, hearing Ben already lightly snoring, she says it softly; the thing she’d heard him think to her just then before his post-coital body had allowed itself to sleep.

“I fucking love you, too.”

 _And that’s fine,_  she thinks back, as she tilts her face up to his sleeping one.  _That’s totally fine for now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this work xx


	26. Cambylictus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 9. Part 1 of 5. Ben.

Ben's first thought had been more Garrmorl. Rey had liked it. But then he’d remembered where that had ended them. Alcohol needed to be a chambers-only thing. Definitely not a Kashyyyk thing. And even though he felt nervous about going back there, he knew she preferred it. The night sky, the warm air, the scents of flowers and sometimes petrichor. Was he starting to like it, too?

So the gift Ben brought Rey tonight needed to be something fairly benign that wouldn’t lead to what happened last time. What _else_ could he get her?

Ben had needed to be on Naboo anyway and it was while there today that he’d remembered them from… before. As he looks at them again now he still can’t decide what color they are: purple or violet? He supposes it doesn’t really matter. She won’t really be able to see them in the dark anyway and besides, they’re covered in chocolate. Has she ever tried that? Probably not. Would she have tried the fruit? Again, he doubted it.

He replaces the lid, replaces the box and then closes the drawer beside the mattress and reclines, staring up again at the monotonous ceiling of his chambers and wondering if she’s in her own bed yet. That being the operative word –  _bed_  – because hers certainly isn’t that. He sighs. Should he stop ribbing her about stuff like this now? Maybe… Although he still suspects she likes it when he does.

 _I don’t,_  Ben hears her think.

 _Yes, you do,_  he thinks back, rolling to one side and feeling his heart expand.  _Mistress_.

 _What are they? _he hears her ask through the bond.

He can see that she’s settled down in her usual, secluded spot on the floor of the jungle now, head nestled on her scrunched pillow. He can just make out her bare shoulders – she must have thrown off the blanket – but her upper body this time is still modestly covered by her light garment; it mustn’t be quite as hot there now as it had been last night.

_Can I come now?_

He sees her smile.

_I didn’t mean…_

_I know._

_Can I… come now?_

_Ben, seriously, you could really benefit from learning how to better articulate …_

Blocking her out for a moment, he sits up, re-opens the drawer and grabs the box.

 _…what it is you really want to say_ , he hears her finish as he puts his hand at her shoulder and his mouth on hers and kisses her deeply, leaning over her body so she’s flat on her back and he’s above her now on Kashyyyk.

He pulls his mouth away and nestles his face beneath her hair, smelling the floral scent he knows by now means it's just been washed. Then he finds the other scent he knows and that he loves even more than the one of Rey's hair; the one of her neck, just below her ear. He starts to lick there.

_I haven’t got much time. I have to get back._

“Why?” he hears her breathe.

 _Just a few minutes,_ he adds, ignoring her question but still licking as he presses the box into one of her palms. _I brought you something._

“What are they?” she asks again, still breathy.

Ben lowers his face once more and firmly places his mouth on hers before opening slightly and coaxing softly with his tongue the small gap between her lips. Rey opens further and he slides inside her, pressing his tongue to hers and feeling her gently explore the flavor of his own mouth in return.

 _Open it,_  he thinks back, still kissing her deeply.

 _In a minute,_  she returns, as he feels her mouth widen and the hand not holding the box start to work away at the nape of his neck, twisting the ends of his hair there gently.

 _Berries,_  he thinks evasively, conscious of the passing time.

Ben’s hand slips down to one of her supple thighs and begins to stroke at it lightly with the pads of his fingers. He feels Rey’s hand move to his chest and gently press at it.

“What kind?” she asks under her breath as he lifts his mouth.

 _“Cambylictus,”_ he says quietly, leaning in to her again, and wondering if she gets it as he brushes his lips against hers.

Rey snorts. She does get it.

“Glad we’re on the same page then,” he murmurs.

Ben works his fingers beneath the gauze of her lower garment before tugging it down roughly.

“Open it.”

He watches her fingers slip beneath the lid – lifting it – as he slips the last of her garment below her knees – spreading them – before sliding his fingers between her warm folds.

 _“Ben,”_  she breathes, as he moves his mouth down her neck, kissing over her clavicle as two of his long fingers work away inside her slowly.

“Is this…?” she sighs, tipping back her head but still with eyes fixed curiously on the contents of the box.

“Chocolate covered cambylictus berry,” he breathes, as he begins to lift her upper garment with his free hand. “Have you ever had it?”

“No,” she murmurs.

“Try it,” he whispers, as he brings his mouth to her bared breast.

_“Ben..."_

He licks over the nipple with the tip of his tongue and then closes his lips around it, sucking hard. His fingers continue their generous strokes along the warm, wet walls of her cunt. He can sense Rey’s fingers as he continues to move his mouth down her body, their tips wrapping around the small form of one berry while Ben’s tongue traces a long line down the warm skin of her lower stomach, not quite yet ready to stop.

 _Taste it,_  he urges.

Mouth at the start of the soft smattering of hair that surrounds her sex, Ben watches from the corner of one eye as Rey takes the berry to her mouth and bites through the hard, outer shell of the chocolate that coats it. They both hear it snap in the silent air of the planet. The sound reminds Ben of how exposed they are and anxiety grips him. His time here is rapidly drawing to a close and to do what he wants to do now to her, he needs to be on his knees. Elevation here is dangerous. Should he do it? He can’t sense movement around them and maybe if she stays really quiet...

Raising his head, Ben reaches up rapidly with the hand not inside Rey and tugs the scrunched pillow out from under her head. Lifting her hips quickly, he shoves it callously beneath her. Then he brings his mouth down again to brush his lips against the soft hairs between her thighs as he senses her tongue taste the tart center of the moist fruit in her mouth.

 _Do you like it?_  Ben thinks, while his lips find the apex of her slit. He hears her almost choke when she realizes where his mouth is as he continues to stroke inside her silken cunt with his fingers.

 _“Fuck,”_  she sputters, as his tongue slips beneath the hood of her before he retracts it quickly and lifts his head briefly, eyes on hers.

_Well? Mistress?_

“I’m not sure yet,” she breathes. "I might need more."

 _Finish it, then,_  he thinks, as his mouth returns to her sex but his eyes still watch her place the remainder of the gilded fruit between her lips.

Ben slips his tongue once more between the upper folds of her and licks lightly, his fingers still deep within her. Then he closes his mouth over her there and sucks gently, circling the small button of her clit with the tip of his tongue. Her hips push up at his face, forcing his other hand to steady her but his time is up. He can definitely sense it now.

Kissing Rey once more at her clit he closes his eyes and breathes in the scent of her for a final time before raising his head, removing his fingers and sucking at them quickly. Then he wipes his mouth with the back of the hand as he brings his face swiftly to hers.

 _I have to go,_  Ben thinks, as he drives his tongue between her parted lips and tastes the sweetness of the chocolate and the tartness of the berry still lingering there.

 _Please don’t go,_  he hears her think back, and Rey's words continue to wrench at his heart long after he’s returned to the warship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe this is the name of a *canon* fruit?? I could *not* resist writing this on a rainy day. This is a 4-part night, more soon. Hope you enjoy the beginning ;)


	27. Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 9. Part 2 of 5. Rey.

She can’t help it. Tears well again in her eyes as even though it’s warm she feels the temperature drop when he vanishes. Why can’t he ever just fucking _stay?_

Rey can still taste Ben in her mouth, mingled with the sour berry and the honeyed taste of the chocolate he brought her. She can still feel him on her body but especially between her thighs and she can’t help but bring her fingers to the place where only moments ago his tongue had licked and sucked at her. She presses down there with the pads of her first two fingers and begins to rub. She _has_ done _this_ before.

Where had he had to go? Where is he needed so much more than with her now? What are they making him do? And are they _making_ him do it, or is he _choosing_ to? Is he choosing to be somewhere for them when he could be choosing to be here, and here for her? Rey struggles to believe the latter as she remembers how his mouth had felt as it sucked at her, or as his tongue had felt as it licked at her. Desperate. And she rubs harder.

She wants to hear his voice. She wants to hear him say something mean to her. As she brings her other hand down and thrusts two of her fingers between her legs from behind, she wants to hear him tell her that her blanket is filthy. That the air is too hot, or that her clothes are too wet. That she deserves better. That she should be with him. And when she strokes herself inside with her fingers – just like Ben does – as she rubs once more at her clit and feels herself start to come she wants to hear him say it back as she breathes it to her scrunched pillow again, moistened by the tears that start to fall because she misses him that much now.

“I _love_ you,” she chokes.

She holds herself. Rey shuts her eyes tight and wraps her arms tighter round her chest, pressing her palms flat to her back and feeling sick and hollow.

 _Fuck,_ Rey thinks. _Snap out of it._

And a thought occurs then. Something she can’t believe she hasn’t considered before now but maybe with all the drama that Ben seems to cause in her nights lately – which definitely affects the state of her head in the days – she has somehow forgotten that she’s been wanting to do this for some time: talk to Rose. Rey needs to talk now to Rose.

It doesn’t take her long to dress. Rey’s clothes and boots are never far from where she lays her head to sleep. Lightly she treads across the earthen floor of the jungle, sensing in the dark to avoid the kind of ground debris that snaps and would therefore make sounds loud enough to give her away; it’s only one sleeping Rebel who needs to wake now, not the lot of them.

“Rose?” she whispers into the semi-darkness. _“Rose?”_

Rey reaches out a hand to touch her bare shoulder and gently squeeze.

 _“Rose?”_ she calls softly again, shaking the shoulder now.

Finn is spooned behind her, and Rey certainly doesn’t want to wake him, so she stops the shaking. She squeezes the shoulder more tightly instead and at last Rose stirs.

“Wha…?”

 _“Rose,”_ Rey says again, under her breath. _“Please_ wake up.”

“Rey?” Rose mumbles, scrunching her eyes and blinking as she sees the dark silhouette of Rey above her and then lifts herself onto a forearm. “Are you okay?”

“Can you follow me?”

“Um, yeah… I guess so.”

“Come on then,” Rey whispers, as she stands briskly and motions to a Wroshyr nearby. “I’ll wait for you on the other side of that tree.”

Rey turns rapidly on her heel and marches away, sensing Rose dressing behind her, and when she hears the soft snap of the moist Kashyyyk ground beneath feet she steps out from the cover of the trunk of the Wroshyr to intercept the path of Rose, and motion for her to follow. Rey leads them away for some minutes before stopping near a tussock of needle blossoms, sitting down with her legs crossed beneath her and watching as Rose does the same.

“Rey?”

“Yes?”

“Did you want to talk?”

“Oh, right,” Rey whispers.

Suddenly, she doesn’t quite know what to say.

“Rey?”

“Yes?”

“This is about… that Force-user, right?” Rose whispers back. “The one that was here two nights ago?”

Rey blinks.

“How did you know…?”

“Well, it was kind of obvious,” Rose smiles, gently. “What else could just… _vanish_ like that but a Force-user, right?”

 _“Rose,”_ Rey says, feeling panicked and leaning forward as she clutches at the hands of one of her only friends. “You _mustn’t_ tell anyone. _Please._ You _mustn’t_ tell Finn. Okay? _Please_ promise me.”

“Okay,” Rose whispers, squeezing Rey’s hands to reassure her. “I haven’t said anything and I won’t. I get it. It’s a secret.”

Rey sighs, releases Rose, and then sits on her hands nervously.

“Rose?”

“Yes?”

“You and Finn… _do it._ Right?”

Rose raises an eyebrow and then smiles.

“Well, _yeah,”_ she whispers. “Of course… Rey?”

“Yes?”

“You’re fucking that Force-user, right?”

Rey swallows.

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” Rose says, quietly.

They stare at each other in the quiet Kashyyykian night for several moments.

“Rey?”

“Yes?”

“You’re not…?”

 _“No!”_ she says firmly, and then whips her head around as she realizes how loud she’s just been. “But…”

“Yes?”

“I wanted to ask you about that,” Rey whispers. “About… _coming.”_

“You? Or him?”

Rey gulps again.

“Him, right?” Rose whispers, smiling. “Okay, what about it? What do you want to know?”

Rey looks nervously around. How the fuck was Rose so comfortable with this topic of conversation? She supposes Rose and Finn must talk about it all the time. Rey feels a pang of jealousy grip her somewhere near her solar plexus and she remembers how she’d found Rose minutes ago, at least partially bare and snuggled so close to Finn, asleep and with no fear. In love. At peace. Rey takes a very deep breath.

“I have this _thing_ in my _arm,”_ Rey begins. “I think I know what it is, and what it does, but I don’t know how long it lasts…”

“A device?” Rose asks. “Let me see. Hold it out.”

Rey obeys and carefully Rose presses gentle fingers to the underneath of Rey’s firm triceps.

“Wow, you got yourself some guns there, gorgeous,” Rose whispers, smiling. “No wonder he likes you.”

Rey feels herself blush.

“Did you feel it?” Rey asks.

“Yeah.”

“And that’s what it is, right? What I _think_ it is?”

“Yeah,” Rose confirms. “I’ve got one, too.”

“You do?”

“Aha.”

“How long do they last?”

“Eight standard years or so,” Rose whispers. “When did you get it?”

 _“I don’t know,”_ Rey whispers, fretfully. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Oh,” Rose says quietly, nodding her head. “I see… So, you might be getting close…”

Rey gulps again.

“Did you get your...?”

“No.”

“Then it’s fine,” Rose says, gently. “It still works. No worries.”

Rey breathes a sigh of relief.

“Hang on, so…” Rose begins, pausing.

Rey senses she’s trying to find the right words.

“He… came inside you. Right?”

“Yes,” Rey whispers, nervous again. “Is that _bad?”_

“No, of course not,” Rose whispers back, smiling. “But I get it now. You’re _worried.”_

“Yes,” Rey says nodding, reaching out for Rose’s hands again.

“Don’t be,” she murmurs gently, squeezing Rey’s hands in return. “I’ll give you some herbs to chew in the morning. Then you’ll be double sure. Okay?”

“Okay,” Rey whispers. “Thanks heaps.”

“You’re welcome,” Rose smiles. “Hey… Rey?”

“Yes.”

“Does your Force-user have a big dick?”

Rey snorts. Was this conversation actually happening? She shakes her head, smiling, and with her prior anxiety starting to feel like a lightyear away now.

“He’s… well equipped.”

“Knew it,” Rose whispers with a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued reads, kudos and comments on this fic. Much appreciated xx


	28. The Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 9. Part 3 of 5. Ben.

The sonic in his chambers always leaves him feeling cold but this is why Ben uses it. There’s only one exception in his recent memory and Rey is the reason for that.

Ben remembers her standing naked beneath the ‘fresher; the way the vapor from the warm water beating at her back had split the artificial light of his chambers into prismatic colors. As he pads in a daze away from the sonic for some reason these colors make him think vaguely of his clothing. He should put something on, and he will, if he can just clear his vision of the sickening colors ghosting it now, and rid his ears of the atrocious sounds.

Where he stands, Ben stops and tries to remember her spread beneath him on the jungle floor. Tries to remember the violet of the fruit still on her lips in the semi-darkness, and the way that color had tasted when he’d kissed her before he’d gone. Tries to recall the sounds that had issued from her mouth and throat as he’d licked at her neck, sucked at her nipple and circled her clit with his tongue, plus the sounds of himself licking her from his fingers. All of these sounds had been bliss. Only a few standard hours have passed since then but where are all of these sounds now?

Ben narrows his eyes and lowers his chin. Through the migraine that’s threatening to split his vision in two he can just make her out. Her back is propped against some kind of tree and her head rests on her knees, around which she’s wrapped her arms tightly. She’s fully dressed and he can sense she’s not sleeping; she must just be resting. But he’d left her earlier in that thing she calls a bed, so if she’s resting why isn’t she still there? Is this some sort of static patrol? Or has something just happened to her, too?

 _Why are you doing that?_ he thinks wearily through the bond. _Where are you?_

Ben sees her lift her head slightly and knows she can sense but not yet see him. Can she sense how he feels? Can Rey hear the same sounds in her head, too?

 _Where the fuck are you?_ she thinks back, frowning and apparently still unable to see him as her eyes dart, searching. _Something’s wrong with you…_

He watches her shift her arms to the ground, laying her palms flat to the earth and leaning back against the tree. It _is_ a tree. It might be a Shi-shok. It’s becoming clearer and although it’s taking a substantial amount of effort – and Ben is still struggling to focus on what he wants to do, maybe what he _needs_ to – his connection with her is strengthening, slowly, including his vision; maybe her vision is doing the same. Can she see him now?

 _You look like shit, Ben…_ he hears her think. _What’s happened?_

_Can you come here?_

_No,_ she thinks back, the frown deepening. _What’s happening to you?_

_Why not?_

_It’s too close to daybreak. Answer the fucking question._

_It’s not. It’s only halfway through the night._

Isn’t it? Now he’s not so sure…

_I’m not going there now, Ben. Tell me what’s happened. Where the fuck are your clothes?_

_Can I come to you then?_

_Of course you can._

He can feel his focus waning further.

_Why aren’t you in... that thing you call a bed?_

Did she just roll her eyes? His vision is clouding again. He knows he probably should have phrased that differently, and maybe he would have, if only he could stop the sounds in his head for just a few moments. For just long enough to focus on her, and for just long enough to do this.

_It is a bed, Ben._

_What?_ he thinks, weakly. _Okay. Can I though?_

_I said yes._

Ben closes his eyes and breathes out. He can still hear it. He presses the nail of his thumb hard into the second division of his forefinger and bites down on his lower lip. Feeling the pain, he thinks of where she is and when he opens his eyes, somehow he’s managed to focus on connecting with her for just long enough to make the difference.

He breathes out shakily, kneeling down to the ground where she still sits. It _is_ a Shi-shok tree. He recognizes the smell. Rey moves quickly to her knees and reaches up to grip his arms. He can feel her hands around his shoulders as her fingers try to reach around their girth. Her hands are much narrower than his, his shoulders much wider, but somehow now she is stronger than him and he leans in to her. He can feel himself slipping away.

 _“Ben,”_ she breathes, as he feels her arms wrap around him and her chest push firmly to hold his weight up. _Tell me what you’ve done._

The sounds are still so loud in his head and he thinks he might be dreaming this. Imagining this, like he’s imagined her so many times now. Imagined himself here with her on this planet. Where it is always night, quiet and dark. Imagined smelling her – and the Kashyyykian earth – through the crisp, cold air that is left here now that the sky has cleared of the recent clouds. There’s no heat here now, not like where he’s come from. Nothing burns. The stars above them are as cold as the sonic.

“I’m taking you back.”

Vaguely Ben senses himself agree to this, but whether he speaks or thinks that, he can’t quite tell as suddenly the smell of the Shi-shok is gone and the sterile scents of his chambers seem to surround him again. Something soft is beneath him. Something warm and soft is above. That must be Rey; at some point he’s closed his eyes but he can’t block the sounds in his head. They’re still just as loud. They’re still all screaming.

“Rey?”

“Yes?”

“Can you hear them?” he whispers.

Ben can sense her in his head now. He can feel her press her forehead gently to his own and when, with a mighty effort, he opens his eyes a fraction he can see her looking at him before he closes them again.

“Yes,” she breathes.

“I can’t make them stop.”

His voice is so soft. He wonders if she’s heard him. He can’t hear anything now but the sounds of where he’s been as their echoes continue to ricochet in sickening reverbs of recent reality through his head.

 _Do you want me to… put you to sleep_? he hears her think clearly, as she presses her forehead more firmly to his.

Ben can feel tears prickle at his eyes. Is that from the pain in his head? Or is there a different reason? Would she really do that for him?

 _Please,_ he thinks back.

He blinks and feels them start to fall silently down his cheeks.

 _“Please,”_ he begs again and this time aloud just in case she can’t hear thoughts above the din of the echoes in his head. Or just in case she’s not really here. Just in case he’s still there.

“Okay,” she breathes. _Close your eyes._

Ben feels Rey lift her forehead from his and place one warm palm there instead. Then, with eyes still closed he feels it sweep softly down his face as the sounds begin at last to cease.

Rey’s lips press gently to his and she murmurs something to him about dreams. He struggles to hear it clearly, his mind already on its way. But perhaps he doesn’t need to hear – only know – because Ben already knows the reason it’s been said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this work. Much appreciated xx  
> Thanks also to @pacificwanderer for help with research.  
> Extending this night beyond the planned 4 parts, there is a bit more to unpack here I think..


	29. Say It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 9. Part 4 of 5. Rey.

She could kiss him. That’d be nice. As Rey stares at his sleeping face she runs a thumb over his lower lip before pressing her mouth there very lightly, top lip just below his and with the tip of her tongue tasting Ben. He tastes clean. He’s definitely washed recently.

Rey could frisk him. That’d be nice, too. She draws her mouth away and tilts her chin so her gaze follows her palm to his chest. She runs it over the contours of his pecs and then down the undulations of his hard abdominals. The lower she goes the warmer he gets until she reaches the soft dark curls that lead to his length. 

She glances up quickly as she lifts her hand just slightly to trail the tips of her fingers lightly down his sleepy shaft. She watches his sleeping eyes intently. Her mouth goes slack. One corner curves in a nervous smile that she tries to stifle with no success as she feels his cock twitch below her touch. Will he know about this when she wakes him?

Rey could tell him she loves him again, as kind of like… extra practise. Who knows? If she practises enough maybe one day he might even start to say it back. She thinks it’s worth at least a shot. So, how could you practise something like _that?_

Maybe start by looking at him like she is now, imagining she hasn’t just Force-knocked him out, or whatever it’s called. Whatever she’s done. She doesn’t really know the name; just knows how to do it.

Anyway, so while looking at him very intently, and perhaps also after wiping the smile from her face that’s still there from moments ago when she’d begun stroking his generous cock – because if she’s smiling while she says it he’ll think she’s just teasing – she could say it aloud and then repeat it, but this time in a very deep voice like his, and maybe also with the inclusion of some kind of verbally-cathartic swear word like ‘fucking’. So, it would be like:

_‘I love you, Ben,’_

…in her voice, and then,

_‘I fucking love you too, Rey,’_

…in his very deep one.

 _Yeah,_ she thinks. _That would sound good._

And maybe she could also Force her way inside his head. She would like to know what he’s done. Why she’s here. Why she’s dressed but he’s not. Why she’s had to put him to sleep because earlier he’d been on the verge of some kind of psychological breakdown again; for some reason she’d started to think these had ceased, but clearly they have not. Is that her fault?

Rey wants to know if he’s enabled war crimes tonight – and why – because she suspects he probably has and that thought makes her stomach turn as still her hand rests on his cock, her fingers curling around the ends of the downy bristles that blanket his balls now as she lets herself dwell for a moment on how this texture feels so different to what’s at the base of his shaft. And then...

What has _she_ done? And, if necessary, what could she _un_ do? Or has she already come too far?

Reaching out, Rey senses for the life forms on Kashyyyk. Not long to go now. It’s probably time.

 _Ben,_ she thinks gently, making sure to shift her hand before she does.

Slowly he opens his eyes and Rey watches him blink into the near darkness of his chambers, disoriented but only briefly; she can sense his hands gripping exploratively at his bedding and then she feels them slide toward the warmth he must feel radiating from her as his palms begin to settle in familiar places and he curves himself in toward her body.

“Are you okay?” she whispers, as his dark eyes find her own.

“Yes,” he says softly, gazing back.

“Can you still hear them?”

“No,” he replies, just as quietly and beginning to lean in closer to her, shifting his gaze now to her mouth. “They’re gone.”

“Tell me what happened,” she breathes.

Ben works his way to the crook of her neck and begins to brush at her there with the tip of his nose.

“Did you like what I did to you on Kashyyyk?” he murmurs.

“Ben, tell _me_ what you did when…”

“Did you like my mouth?” he breathes, as his lips make contact.

“What?”

Maybe he _does_ know what she’s just done to him…

 _Did you like me licking you there?_ he thinks, as his mouth presses itself once to the skin just below Rey’s ear.

 _Yes,_ she thinks back, confused and then suddenly aware of the thrum beginning again between her thighs and feeling consequently frustrated by it. Is he doing this on purpose? Is he intentionally changing the subject? Distracting her?

“No,” he breathes. “I’m not. I just want to know if you’d like some more now. Or if maybe you’d like something else, seeing as you’re here...”

Ben puts his mouth to her neck again.

 _Lie on your belly,_ he thinks. _Mistress._

He begins to suck gently at her neck and lick at the skin just below her ear with the tip of his tongue.

 _Lie on your belly,_ he thinks again when she doesn’t move. _Please._

And even though Rey knows now that this is _very_ strategic, she can’t help but roll over.

Ben tugs down her lower garments before pressing himself to the back of her, coming to rest slightly to one side of her body and then bringing her hands to familiar positions and placing them on his bed, palm down. She rests knowingly on her forearms. He works his own hands gently beneath her upper garments and is eventually able to cup her breasts. He sighs as his fingers begin to play lightly with both of her nipples, softly tweaking and sensing her, knowing what feels good. She breathes out shakily.

_Fuck._

“Do you like this?” he whispers from behind her, as she feels his lips brush against the skin at the nape of her neck.

“Tell me what you did,” she breathes, a pant beginning in her voice as he braces possessively above her and she feels herself growing ever wetter.

 _You already know,_ he thinks as he begins to spread her knees - and she lets him - as one of his hands briefly leaves her body.

“I want to hear you _say it,”_ she urges, as he gently shifts her hips to one side and then slides his hard length into her grateful cunt as they both breathe out.

“Please don’t go,” he breathes into her ear, sensing a fleeting thought in her to leave as he begins to work his cock along the inside of her.

 _You can’t make me stay, Ben,_ she thinks, although she knows she will as she feels his hot breath against the back of her neck while he begins a rhythm inside her that she’s missed, one hand on her hip and the other still tugging infuriatingly at her nipple.

 _You can’t make me say it, Rey,_ she hears him think back, as she let's her body relax into the slow fuck he's giving her from behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More soon. Thank you for all the continued support for this fic xx


	30. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 9. Part 5 of 5. Ben.

It’s better than imagining, either here alone before any of this had started or here alone now that it has. It’s better than talking about it, either through the bond or in person like they had earlier on Kashyyyk as he’d nervously attempted to delay his anxiety about what he knew he couldn’t prevent. This is now the best way he knows to forget. Fucking Rey, slowly and just like this, finally feels to Ben like peace.

He feels his own climax start to build. She’s lifted her hips and he’s deeper now. His strokes inside her have resultantly lengthened and a delicious pleasure is occurring every time he pushes up and into her again. With his palms at her hips, he can watch himself sink into her from behind. He can put his lips to her neck when he wants to as she arches back in search of his mouth. He can think things to her, especially now as he prepares to come, that he knows he can’t say but that he knows she can hear. And that’s peaceful too, because it’s easier to think some things; when you say them, you have to explain them.

_I fucking love you, Rey._

Tilting his head back, he thrusts his cock to its hilt once more before the orgasm bathes him and he drops back, pulling her with him weakly as she senses him, probably feels him too as his cum spills into her. He breathes out shakily and closes his eyes, barely feeling the plush bedding around him because his body feels so weightless now. The colors from earlier in the night are gone. When he opens his eyes, just the grey, ambient light of his chambers shrouds them and the sounds of earlier are gone, too, as his ears fill with just her breathing, which is fatefully synching with his.

One sound is missing. Something he was expecting. She hasn’t said it back. And she hasn’t thought it, either.

“You want me to say that now?” she says softly, a slight pant still shaking her voice.

“Do you want to?” he breathes.

Ben feels her shift her body before she turns in his arms to face him. What is that look on her face? It isn’t pleasure, although he can feel this in her through the bond. But it isn’t the furious look she so often gives him either. At first, Ben thinks he hasn’t seen this look before, but then – stomach churning – he remembers he has; the look on Rey’s face is of loss.

“You don’t want to,” he says, softly, dropping his eyes to her lips and then further, finding himself suddenly unable to watch it as he senses her tears.

“Look at me, Ben,” she says, firmly.

Unable to resist her, he resigns himself to her request as he feels his stomach virtually fall right out of him. A choke begins in his throat and his mouth goes dry as a panic sets in. He bites down on his lip.

“Stop it,” she says, as he sees her tears start to fall.

 _I can’t,_ he thinks back.

“But you can tell me what you’ve done,” she says, voice trembling and leaning in.

_Please don’t do that. Don’t cry. Don’t lean in._

“No,” she whispers. “I need you to tell me the truth.”

 _The Outer Rim,_ he thinks back and then stops.

Maybe that’s good enough?

“It’s not,” she whispers again, still crying and still leaning in as her wide hazel eyes bore terrible holes. _“Keep going.”_

Ben sighs, letting go of his lip with his teeth as he feels his own eyes start to prickle.

“A resource planet.”

“Which one?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Why were you there?”

“You don’t need to know that,” he cuts.

 _“Yes, I do,”_ she hisses. “Why were you there? What did you do?”

 _“I gave an order,”_ he hisses back, growing frustrated. “That’s _all_.”

“To who?”

“Military.”

“What’d you tell them to do?”

“Maintain the rule of law, Rey.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Ben. _What’d you tell them to do?_ ”

“Execute.”

“Who? Villagers?”

 _“No,”_ he says, firmly.

Does she believe him? He can sense her, searching for the truth.

 _“Who?”_ she repeats.

Ben feels his eye twitch. His mouth is bone dry and his chest feels so tight he can’t breathe. The panic increases.

 _Please just say it,_ she thinks. _Please just say it once, Ben, and just to me. I won’t ever repeat it._

He swallows thickly, mouth so dry his tongue sticks to his palate as he does and he almost chokes.

“The Senator,” he says, barely above a whisper.

 _“_ Only _one_ life?” she asks, in a tone dripping with sheer disbelief.

“Yes.”

“That’s _garbage,”_ she hisses. “In _your_ head I heard…”

“They used force,” he says, lifting his gaze.

Ben leans in but it’s Rey who puts the distance between them now. He tries to pull her back to him, looking steadily into her devastated eyes as he does, so she will know he isn’t lying; this _is_ the truth.

“But I _didn’t_ order that, Rey,” he breathes. “I _didn’t._ But they did it anyway.”

She is frowning although he can sense a shift; she believes him now. And as he tries again to pull her closer she doesn’t resist this time. He breathes out shakily as her forehead comes to rest near his chin. He could press his lips to it. Would she want him to do that? Or is she still appalled? Even though she knows now that he hasn’t been lying to her? The sounds have left his head but do they still haunt Rey’s? He has learned how to forget what he does, but has she?

“Do you still…?” he begins.

“They killed villagers?” she whispers, her gaze locked on his chin as he feels her fingertips begin to trace the scar that runs down his chest before she turns her hand over and traces now with the back of it. With the hard knuckles there.

“Yes,” he breathes.

“And you let them?”

 _Yes,_  Ben thinks back. Because it’s easier to think some things. You don’t have to explain them.

“Rey?”

She looks up but stays silent.

“Do you regret… _this?”_

“I don’t know,” she whispers back, looking once again into his eyes, and his stomach churns again because he knows she’s telling the truth.

He feels as sick as he did when he could still hear the screaming. Would he trade it for this? What would he give now for Rey  _not_ to know?

“You can’t take it back,” she whispers. “Any of it.”

“Do you think it again?” he murmurs, as the prickle in his eyes becomes a familiar brim.

“No, Ben,” she sighs, leaning back and staring - crushed - as he tries to clear tears but they fall anyway.

“I just think… you’re so terribly lost.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh sorry, this is another sad chapter! 
> 
> In response to the 'Lost' prompt from @two-halves-of-reylo this week.
> 
> “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”  
> \- Leonard C.
> 
> Thank you for the continued reads, kudos and comments on this fic. Couldn’t keep doing this without you xx


	31. Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 10. Part 1 of 8. Rey.

“Rey?”

“Yes?”

“You’re really quiet. Everything okay?”

“Mm-hm,” Rey says nodding and ending on the up-note.

She leads them slowly through the dense, early evening jungle and Rose follows with the haversack.

“Rey?”

“Yes?”

“Are you _sure_ there isn’t something you want to talk about?”

“Mm-mm,” she says shaking and ending on the down-note as she skirts them both around a thicket of orchidfern.

“Rey?”

“Yes?”

Rose stops.

“Did you break up with that Force-user?”

“How in the fuck do you know things like this?” Rey asks, baffled as she stops, too, and gapes at Rose who smiles sadly.

“Knew it,” Rose says with a sigh, dropping the half-full bag. “Sit down.”

They have stopped over a patch of Jaddyyk moss, definitely _not_ something Rey wants to sit on right now.

“Not here...” she starts, eyes darting for something less hazardous.

Finally, Rey spies it; the same thicket of needle blossom they’d sat near last night when she’d first asked Rose for advice.

“Over here,” she suggests quietly, so they won’t be followed.

Although the evening is disappearing into night, the Resistance is still in the midst of the end of day tasks. In the half-light, to avoid unwanted attention, Rey senses her way swiftly and stealthily to the clearing through the ground cover. Rose picks up the haversack and follows, somewhat less so.

“Okay,” Rose begins quietly, setting the bag down carefully again, so none of their hard-earned Mysess blossoms will spill, and then settling herself down beside it. “So, _what happened?”_

“I don’t _know…”_ Rey starts with a long and mournful sigh as she sits, too, crossing her legs beneath her and resting her hands in her lap.

“Did he cheat on you?” Rose asks, bluntly.

“No,” Rey replies, without hesitation.

“Did he _lie_ to you?”

Rey thinks for a moment.

“No,” she says, slowly. “He didn’t lie.”

Rose frowns.

“Is it something about _attention_ then? Does he _neglect_ you?”

“No.”

“Too _much_ attention?” she suggests, her frown deepening. “Is this guy a _smotherer?”_

Rey thinks again. Was he? She thought they’d struck the right balance there; Ben visited at night and left her days free. It was good like that. She liked it.

“No,” Rey says, finally. “He doesn’t smother.”

“Well, what about making you feel _special?”_ Rose asks, patiently. “Maybe you broke up with him because he doesn’t do _that?”_

“No, he _does_ do that,” Rey says before a thought occurs. “Wait here. I’ll show you.”

She runs back to her bed and as she rummages under her scrunched pillow she can’t help but think of Ben. He didn’t think of this as a bed. Tears prickle at her eyes as she remembers all the times he’s ribbed her about it.

 _Stop it,_ she thinks, as her hand makes contact with the box Ben gave her last night.

Rey pulls it out from beneath her pillow and her stomach clenches; Ben would n _ever_ call it that.

 _Cut it out,_ she scolds her head for a second time. _Not  fucking helping._

Carefully, Rey lifts the lid of the box and picks up one of the chocolate covered cambylictus berries. Very carefully, she places it in the palm of her hand, covers the hand loosely with her other palm and then races back to Rose.

“Hold out your hand,” Rey whispers, as she sits back down and holds the treat between her thumb and forefinger.

Rose obeys and Rey places the small morsel on her palm, seeing her eyes widen in shock.

 _“Rey,_ is this…?”

“Yes,” she whispers back, beaming. “Have you ever had it?”

 _“Never…”_ Rose breathes, struggling to believe and staring at the delicacy cupped in her palm. _“_ He _gave_ you these?”

“Yes,” Rey says brightly, still smiling. “Lots. A whole box _full_ of them. Taste it, it’s _delicious…”_

As Rey watches Rose touch the chocolate appreciatively to her tongue before biting through its tempered shell to the moist berry inside she feels a pang. Her stomach knots again and the moisture that earlier prickled at her eyes returns now as Rey feels them begin to brim. She is reminded of Ben – his eyes always brim – and all of a sudden, tears are falling down Rey’s cheeks.

 _“Rey,”_ Rose says urgently, swallowing her mouthful quickly and then leaning in with the rest of it still in her palm but forgotten for now. “What’s  _wrong?”_

Rey wipes her face with the back of her sleeve, feeling pathetic.

“I just…”

“Did he _hurt_ you?” Rose whispers. _“Physically?”_

“No,” Rey says firmly, shaking her head and sniffling.

Rose breathes a sigh of relief.

“Well, _what_ then?” she asks frowning, as she scoffs the rest of the berry down quickly and reaches out to take Rey’s hands. “What _did_ he do?”

Rey inhales slowly. What _had_ Ben done?

“Well,” she starts, exhaling as she lets Rose soothe her. “I guess he just makes… particular _choices.”_

 _“What?”_ Rose says, her frown deepening at first until suddenly this disappears and a sly smile crosses her face instead.

 _“Oh,”_ she says slowly, letting go of Rey’s hands now as she remembers the tart flavor of the berry in her mouth and leans back. “You mean like  _kinks,_ right? This is a _sex_ thing, right? Did he ask you for anal?”

 _“What?”_ Rey mutters, feeling a furious blush begin in her cheeks. _“No!”_

Rose looks curiously at her for several moments before speaking again.

“So, it’s _not_ about the sex either?” she says, completely stumped now. “Just to be, like, _totally_ final on that.”

“It’s _not_ about the sex,” Rey sighs heavily.

“The sex is _really_ good though, isn’t it?”

“Rose…”

“Okay, sorry,” she says, raising her hands in recognition of the friendship boundary they’ve just reached.

“I don’t always agree with him,” Rey sighs again, as she reaches out a hand to grasp at one of the nearby blossoms. “And, yeah, he _is_ good… in… bed.”

Rose gives Rey a soft smile as she watches her pluck the blossom and begin to wind its stem absentmindedly around one finger.

“Nobody’s perfect, Rey,” Rose says, gently.

Rey looks up briefly, staring at Rose sadly before returning her gaze to the blossom. Silently, she begins to pull its tufty anthers from the stamens and fling them on the ground in front of her. The night has deepened now. Less noise ensues from the distant camp and Rey senses they should really get back, although her chest feels hollow at the thought of returning to her lonely place on the jungle floor tonight.

“Do you think that’s a stupid reason to break up with someone?” Rey whispers, plucking another blossom from the earth. “Because you don’t like some of their choices?”

“No,” Rose, says softly. “But, Rey?”

“Yes?” she murmurs, holding the blossom protectively this time and gazing at it as she waits wistfully for Rose to speak again.

“It did sound, from what you said, like the _rest_ of it was… kind of _good.”_

Rey twirls the stem in her hand and looks up.

“Do you think I can take it back?” she whispers.

“You mean, the breaking up part?”

“Yes.”

Rose smiles gently.

“I think he’d be crazy not to take you back, Rey, if that’s what you’re really asking. And if what you really want is him back. If you regret it now. The breaking up part.”

“Do _you_ think it’s what I want?”

“You do seem… _sad_ about it.”

Rey looks down again at the blossom.

“Rose?”

“Yes?”

“Have you told Finn you love him?”

“Yes,” Rose says, softly.

“And _do_ you love him?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

Rey twirls the blossom again.

“Rey?”

“Yes?”

“You did that too, right?” she asks, gently. “You told your Force-user that you love him. Right?”

“Yes,” Rey answers thickly, tears welling again and a lump the size of the second Death Star beginning to form in her throat.

Rose reaches across with one hand to touch Rey’s, which still twirls the stem of the delicate needle blossom.

“Did he say it back?” Rose whispers.

“Yes,” she chokes out, looking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy-sad?


	32. Annihilation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 10. Part 2 of 8. Ben.

He wants to reach out to her but doesn’t dare. This paralytic feeling only serves to make him even more anxious than he already is.

 _Is this how it ends then?_ he asks himself, as he bites down hard on his lower lip. _Or just how it begins?_

If he can’t fuck Rey, or talk or think about fucking her – reconcile a peace with this energy he feels in that way – then he knows he needs to battle. There’s too much fuel coursing through him now and he needs for it to burn. He needs to burn out. As he stares again blankly through the indifferent wall in front of him he goes through some options.

He could start with a bodyweight circuit. It’s not battling – and it would only be moderately tiring – but at least it would make him hurt, especially if he does enough reps with no breaks. Supersets. That could get suitably painful.

 _Painful is good,_ he thinks. It helps him forget.

He could go get a stormtrooper and beat the living shit out of it. That would be cathartic. Wouldn’t it? He’s never actually done that before, it’s just an idea that he sometimes has when he gets desperate enough. He supposes there’s a first time for everything and that thought leads him to think again of Rey and he sighs, because she’s too hard to forget.

The first time he’d fucked her he’d really fucked up, but she hadn’t left him then, so just how exactly is _this_ now possible? How is it possible that he can fuck up that badly _in front of her,_ and yet something he’s done, on the other side of the fucking galaxy that hasn’t even _remotely_ involved her, turns into the thing that leads to her seemingly deciding to drop him like a flash-bang grenade? I mean, what the fuck is _that_ about?

 _Fucking stop it,_ he thinks, biting down harder on his lower lip and feeling his eyes start to brim.  

Ben sighs and wonders why he’s still even here. The day is done, he’s just lingered here longer than usual, finding it hard to go back to his sleeping chamber. Maybe he should though. Lie down, maybe jerk off and at least just _try_ to sleep, like he usually does now as the Kashyyyk night descends and he waits for her to be ready for him.

But Ben can sense her and if he can do that he can’t forget her, and if he can do _that_ he certainly can’t lie there alone in his over-sized bed without her. It won’t end well. Because he can still sense she’s upset. He does take some solace in the knowledge that she isn’t exactly ecstatically happy either; maybe that means she regrets what she’s done? He regrets virtually everything he’s ever done, so why the fuck would she be any different? He feels his heart clench. Should he go back? Wait for her there? On the off chance that…?

 _You’re a fucking fool,_ he thinks, as a new thought occurs.

He stands and purposefully crosses the durasteel floor to the other side of his exercise chamber. After activating the projector, Ben dials through Forms I to V before pausing at VI as he feels his heart clench again; does Rey know about this? He’s never actually thought to ask her about training. A guilt begins to gnaw at him over that, and he remembers that night when she’d asked him about his day...

Until then, he’d never really thought to ask her about much at all, but he does wonder how she trains, especially now with no weapon. He can sense she hasn’t repaired it yet; does she even know how? _Does_ she still train? She must, her body is so _limber…_

 _Snap the fuck out of it,_ he thinks, as he reaches Form VII.

Ben only ever uses Form VII for either one of two reasons. The first is when he grows so frustrated by how shit the specialized stormtroopers are to train with that he can no longer tolerate them. He’s not being callous; subordinates simply aren’t skilled enough for Form VII. They’re all too fucking dim-witted to be unpredictable and you have to be that to cope with it. Subordinates are good at following orders and rules and that’s about it; true creativity is beyond them because every capricious thought they’ve ever had has been cruelly weened out of them. Again, not their fault, he’ll admit, but no less true.

But just sometimes, when he just feels that bad, Ben will use Form VII because he just fucking feels like it. And right now, he’s at _that_ place. He’s right there. He steps back. 

Ben stares at the holographic opponent now in front of him. Masked and armed, the opponent stares back. When he draws the hilt of his saber and ignites it, his adversary does too. Slowly, he raises his weapon while he watches as his enemy adopts the same stance. A battle stance. And a very familiar one at that, as Ben does it too. And both he and Kylo Ren stare down the blades of versions of the same weapon for minutes before Ben drops the still unfinished original to his side and Kylo does the same with its synthesized replica.

Ben sighs. This is so passé. I mean really, clashing blades with a _holo_ of himself? For fuck’s sake. What was he just thinking before about creativity? He knows he can do better than this. He knows he _is_ better than this. As he stares into the simulated black veneer of a mask he destroyed nearly two weeks ago on the Supremacy, Ben imagines clashing blades with Rey.

He stares at the kitted-out form of himself in the mask.

“Maybe if I’d been more imaginative, she would have stayed,” he says softly to it. “I mean, alcohol and chocolate? Not exactly original gifts, right?”

At the sound of Ben’s voice, the Form VII holo is designed to perform a series of variable active combat maneuvers. The holo-Kylo begins to lunge, and in response Ben parries.

“Maybe it was the sex,” he muses. “Maybe I wasn’t gentle enough, or not nice enough… Thoughts?”

The holo-Kylo continues to lunge. Ben steps back, sighing.

Should he have maybe been more brutal with her? She liked to call him _Kylo_ after all. Should he have put her down more often, like he does to himself? Ben knows he’s good at that, annihilating his own sense of worth. Had he preserved hers too eagerly? Was he wrong to value Rey as much as he did, and does she in fact possess as much self-hatred as him and therefore crave it just like he does? Does she _want_ him to put her down? Is _that_ why she’s gone?

His eyes are still brimming. He lowers his weapon and the holo-Kylo follows its program and mimics him. Ben steps forward. With his free hand he reaches out and slows down the speed of the holo before stepping back. Raising the weapon again, he watches his opponent do the same, but slower.

 _Look at you,_ he thinks.

Staring down the blade at Kylo Ren, Ben feigns left as he watches himself parry too slowly. Ben cuts through the mid-section of the holographic projection, feeling his stomach flip as he watches his own double bisect and then collapse before the image dissolves only to reform as an intact Kylo Ren. So Ben does it again.

This time, as he watches the saber cut clean through his abdomen, he imagines the pain that must follow as he feels the flip in his stomach and tries to slow it down, too. Tries to make it last. But it doesn’t. And so Ben does it again: runs himself through with the ragged edge of his own blade, over and over again until he collapses in a heap of silent tears as the holographic form of Kylo Ren ripostes endlessly above him.

 _So terribly lost,_ he hears the echo of her voice repeat again in his head.

“Yes,” Ben whispers. “I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this fic. Much appreciated xx


	33. Mysess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 10. Part 3 of 8. Rey.

Rey holds the little flower above her face again as she lies on her back and looks up at the clear night sky above Kashyyyk. Its circumference is slight enough to cover the planet’s orange moon – the smallest one – but not the other two. When she eclipses the orb in the system with the blossom she’d picked earlier – as she and Rose had sat in the jungle while darkness had fallen and the rest of the Rebels had slowly organized themselves for sleep – its transparent petals turn tawny and warm.

 _Warm,_ Rey thinks to herself, remembering Ben as the backs of her hands begin to feel the first creep of the night's chill as the dark deepens.

She tucks herself back under her blanket, carefully placing the needle blossom beside her just beforehand. She has a mind to give it to Ben. Would he accept it? She doesn’t know. Should she reach out to him? Maybe… apologize? Does she owe him one of those? An apology? In the end, Ben _had_ told her the truth about what he’d done. And if she doesn’t want that – just the truth – what _does_ she want from Ben? What does she want from _anyone?_

The conversation with Rose has begun a slow, sickening churn in the pit of Rey’s stomach. The feeling reminds her of last night, when she’d seen Ben through the bond as he’d re-emerged there after what she now knew he’d gone to do in the Outer Rim. He’d been hurting and of all things naked for some reason that she still didn’t fully understand and he’d sought her out for fucking _help._ And all she’d ended up doing in return for that trust was to tell him off. Was that fair?

Rey feels her stomach roil again and tears start to form in the corners of her eyes. She looks to the blossom once more. Should she? What purpose did it serve _not_ to do it? What was the point of lying here and feeling sick with worry and loneliness? Would she be a better Rebel? Would she be a better Jedi? Would she be a better _person?_ If she lies here and continues to _not_ do things, would she be a better version of herself?

Rey’s gone to Ben in the past, but she’s gone to him because she’s _seen_ that she should. She hasn’t seen anything of the sort about _this_. How did visions work anyway? Were they supposed to be predictive? Ben would know. But she can’t ask him now. Leia might know. Should she ask her?

 _No,_ Rey thinks, firmly. _No way._

Leia _must_ already know though, right? Surely… She had _definitely_ known that time when Rey had been shivering to near-death in the Falcon and Ben had connected to help her, taking her back to his chambers and warming her in the ‘fresher. Drying her. Drying her clothes. And then… well… Rey hoped very much that Leia didn’t know too much about the rest of _that._

 _Fuck,_ she thinks, shuddering at the very uncomfortable thought that Ben’s mother knew anything at all about… well, _that._

How the fuck had she arrived at this train of thought anyway? In an effort to clear her head, she rolls over to stare once more at the blossom. The planet’s air is growing substantially colder and Rey wriggles down further beneath her blanket in an effort to avoid the worst of its impact. She pulls the back of the blanket beneath her body, shifting one side up and over her mouth before flipping the other over her head to form an eye slit. From this, she continues to stare at nothing in particular, but after a time her melancholic gaze falls not on the needle blossom but the other one she’d saved from earlier, when Rose hadn’t been looking: the Mysess.

Carefully, Rey wriggles one hand from beneath the cover of her blanket. Slowly, she reaches out to touch the rare flower with the tips of her first two fingers. Its single, tear-shaped petal feels smooth and buttery, and suddenly the richness of that feeling reminds her of the plush feeling of a very specific body part of Ben’s.

 _Don’t,_ she warns herself, but she can’t help the train of thought carry her along as she continues to stroke the flower gently. It’s _true…_

She’d laid by his side for _ages_ last night and just done this as he’d slept; stroked the soft skin – even softer than his lips – and just thought about nothing but how his sleepy cock had felt beneath her fingers. So far away from gritty sand, or the scratch of her blanket and certainly _nothing_ like her scrunched pillow. The texture of Ben in that secret place was just like the velour she knew was in herself. She’d felt it there, when she’d been lonely enough. When she’d yearned just enough for Ben to be deep inside her.

Rey shifts her hips and closes her eyes. With her fingers, she strokes softly again along the surface of the Mysess but imagines it’s Ben’s cock beneath them. Her hips begin a soft roll as she begins to press down more firmly so the supple petal presses flush against the earthen ground to now feel hard. To feel like the glans of his cock when it's at its largest, when it's stretched so long and tight as though she had her hand wrapped lovingly around it and was guiding it into her snug cunt, just as she had two nights ago. The memory of that night makes her incomparably bothered and she realizes now that she _wants_ that. She _wants_ to be bothered by Ben. She _needs_ it.

Rey’s hips continue to roll. She nuzzles her face against her pillow and thinks about his fingers until her mind inevitably trails her down a path that leads to more thoughts about how generous he is, and she feels herself growing familiarly wet. Pressing her mouth to her pillow, quickly Rey draws her hand back beneath the shelter of the cocoon she’s made from her blanket and she slips that hand beneath her light lower garment until her fingers find the entrance to her cunt. She inserts them. Just inside. Just like Ben.

 _Fuck,_ she breathes into her pillow, as she opens her mouth and begins to knead with it.

Rey slides her fingers out until their tips rest just inside her entrance, just as Ben does, and she begins to firmly rub herself there. Pleasure builds inside her and she opens her eyes grudgingly as she feels herself verging. With her other hand she grasps for her nipple, just like Ben does, and begins to rub it softly between her forefinger and thumb until she feels the warmth grow impossibly between her thighs, and then start to spread from there as she opens her mouth. Her eyes gape, too, and then shut themselves tight as she rubs doggedly, feeling her muscles contract irrepressibly while still imagining Ben. Imagining his earthy, petrichor scent and his face in front of hers. She tilts her chin out to reach it, as in her head his soft lips kiss her adoringly back. 

As she draws her mouth away, she closes her eyes and thinks she shouldn't do this anymore. She's too invested. Too immersed in the terrible fantasy of it. And when she opens her eyes, Rey can still see his image as she draws her fingers out from within herself and imagines that he’s taking her wrist in his own hand and guiding it up to his mouth, to suck the cream of her sex gently from them.

 _Ben,_ she thinks.

“I miss you,” she hears him whisper sadly through the bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this fic. Much appreciated xx


	34. Whipped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 10. Part 4 of 8. Ben.

He feels her draw her hand back so fast it’s as though she’s just touched Jaddyyk moss.

“How long have you been watching me?” she whispers, waspishly.

“Not long,” Ben sighs. “It only just started.”

“I didn’t _ask_ you to.”

“Ask me to _what?”_ he says, wearily. “To _watch_ you?”

 _“Yes,”_  Rey hisses, shifting herself back from him. “You’ve no right to invade my privacy, I certainly didn’t _invite_ you to. I didn’t _ask_ you to watch me.”

 _“What?”_ he says, beginning to frown.

What the fuck is she talking about? Since when has he ever had to ask for her permission to return a Force-connection?

“Don’t play dumb with me, Ben.”

 _“You_ were thinking about _me,”_ he says to her, beginning to lose patience.

 _Wow,_ he thinks to himself. _ That hasn’t taken long…. _

“You must have been thinking about me too,” she cuts.

“Well, _yeah,”_ he says, dryly. “That’s what a Force-connection _is_ , Rey.”

“You should have told me you were watching.”

_What?_

”Since when do I have to tell you _that?”_ he says, growing ever agitated. “And you fucking knew I was there. _You_ fucking kissed _me_. _And_ you let me suck your fucking...”

“Since _now,”_ she hisses again, cutting him off, leaning back further, dropping her gaze and strategically ignoring the rest of the details to suit her own accusations; he can sense it.

Ben inhales deeply and closes his eyes. What the fuck is going on? She doesn’t want him to see her _masturbate?_ Is _that_ it? He supposes every time he’s sensed her through the bond and been about to jack it he’s stopped pretty Makerdamn fast. Even so, he really doesn’t need this shit right now. It had taken all of his resolve to pick himself back up off the floor of the exercise chamber earlier and return here to his sleeping one, and he still feels fragile.

With eyes still closed, Ben exhales through his nose very slowly as he tries to calm down and figure out what to do next. Should he close the connection? She’s clearly still mad as a cut Savrip at him but if that’s really the case, why the fuck isn’t _she_ closing it? Is she just enjoying this? Enjoying just absolutely ripping him to shreds now? He hears her mumble something under her breath but he can’t quite make it out, and it bothers him.

 _“What?”_ he murmurs, brow still knitted as he tries to determine first what she’s said, and then to whom.

“Can you come here?” he finally hears her mutter at him through the bond. “Please, Ben?”

 _You are so fucking whipped,_ he thinks to himself as when he opens his eyes she’s still leaning back and avoiding his gaze.

Ben shivers. What the fuck is with the weather on this planet anyway? He is only attired in his usual nighttime garb of just a light lower garment, and he wishes he had something more on as the cold starts to bite at his skin. Or wishes that he could at least hold her – he remembers how warm she could be in the right spots, even when her skin felt cold – but he doubts she will let him do that now, given the daggers she’s currently looking at his chest.

“Here,” Rey whispers, as he watches her unwrap the blanket quickly from herself and throw it round him.

Mildly surprised by her compassionate gesture at such a time as the middle of a tiff he moves closer, in order to lie beneath the weave’s warmth, but she shifts herself back to maintain a small but unmistakable physical distance between her body and his and Ben sighs again. Obviously something is up, but what? He begins to sense.

She’s either still _actually_ mad at him, because of what he’s already admitted to doing last night in the Outer Rim, or she’s playing some kind of game again. He can sense it. Just possibly, she’s mad at herself; she thinks she’s fucked up and she’s trying to fix it but she can’t admit that to him because she’s too proud, and maybe not even to herself because she’s too stubborn. Ben senses again until he’s sure; Rey is definitely remorseful. And so the question remains: does _she_ know this, too? Or just him?

As Ben watches her, while these thoughts run through his head and heart, he hears Rey sigh before she rolls onto her back to gaze up at the clear night sky.

“Rey?” he whispers.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she says, softly.

Ben doesn’t believe her and so he senses again, just to confirm.

“Yes, you do,” he says, just as softly.

He watches her glare at the moons of Kashyyyk and purse her lips but remain silent. Then she sighs and rolls over so that now she has her back to him. He raises an eyebrow and goes through some options. He could play her little game and get fucked. Go back to his chambers. They would certainly be warmer than here. He knew it wasn’t exactly warm on the warship but it certainly wasn’t this frigid. Or scratchy. Or hostile.

But he didn’t really want that. He wanted to be here. He wanted to be here with her. Even when she treated him like shit, he still couldn’t help but want her.

“Do you know that?” he asks, quietly.

She remains silent, but he knows she can hear him.

“Rey?”

He hears her sigh.

“Okay,” he murmurs, thinking carefully. “I get it. You’re still mad at me because of the other night. Right?”

 _Yes,_ she thinks.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs slowly, sensing. “I’m sorry that I did what I did and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner what I was going to do.”

“And…?”

“And…” he says, sensing again. “I’m sorry… that I left in order to do all that shit and didn’t stay with you instead. Is that right?”

She rolls back to face him.

“That’s all very well to say now, Ben, but it doesn’t change anything. You still did it.”

“Yes, I did,” he says, quietly. “And I’m sorry for that, too.”

“For _what?”_ she whispers.

“For fuck’s sake, Rey,” he whispers back. “I don’t fucking know. I just feel like you want me to say sorry. A _lot_ of times.”

She rolls over, her back to him once more.

 _Fuck this fucking shit,_ he thinks, and reaches out.

When his palm finds the warmth of her waist he lets his arm follow it round her belly and slip underneath the place where her body meets the blanketed earth, tucking his fingers in and drawing her nearer. Expecting to be met with resistance, he braces the arm as he uses it as a fulcrum with which to lever the front of his own body to the back of hers, tucking his thighs beneath her own and pressing his abs and chest firmly to her rear. And he holds her there and waits for the counter-push. Moments pass and they turn into minutes. She hasn’t moved. And then he feels her body begin to shake.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks.

 _“I’m_ sorry,” he hears her murmur very faintly and almost just as a thought.

Ben feels Rey try to move herself beneath the vice-like grip of his solid arm. In response he softens it around her and she turns to face him. As he looks at her, eyes wide and wet with tears, he feels his jaw slacken as he takes the sight of her in. Even in her grief, she’s breathtaking. Even though she’s just spent a good chunk of his night tearing his sense of self worth to pieces and it hurts his heart significantly, it still aches for her. She’s holding something in one of her hands and as he stares at it more closely it looks to be some kind of flower.

 _Please take it,_ she thinks. _I’ve nothing else._

When he reaches out she presses the blossom closer to him, and as his fingers close around it, leaving only the faintest bruise on its delicate surface, Ben catches the unmistakably familiar scent of it on the cool Kashyyykian air. It’s the smell of her hair, and at last he can name it.

“Mysess,” he breathes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this fic xx


	35. Remorse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 10. Part 5 of 8. Rey.

Rey stares at his chin. Because somehow it’s easier, talking to his chin.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers again.

She feels Ben shift himself slightly and bring a hand to her own chin, nestling it gently into the crook of his forefinger before touching his thumb to it and coaxing softly.

“Please look at me, Rey,” he murmurs.

She sighs. If she looks at him now, she knows she will lose it completely. She’s already fighting a tidal wave of tears as well as struggling to come to terms with what she’d realized earlier while Rose had good-naturedly waited for her to come to her senses. Is that what had happened then? Rose had been too polite to actually say it but Rey knew the truth; her own anger at Ben has been completely misplaced. Rey doesn’t resent him, any more or less than she resents herself and especially now that he’s still here, waiting patiently for her yet again.

 _You are a bitch,_ she thinks to herself, still unable to meet his gaze.

“Stop beating yourself up,” she hears him breathe.

Rey feels Ben shift his hand – is he giving up? – but then his lips brush lightly across her forehead as awkwardly he places the hand on her hip, then on his own thigh, then back on her hip before hovering somewhere between them. She grabs the hand and yanks it back to her hip.

Without hesitation he curves his warm palm around her before his fingers begin to trace the weave of her light lower garment. Is he nervous? Is that what’s wrong with him now? His lips begin to brush across her forehead once more and she hears him sigh again, feeling the slight shake in the breath as it leaves his body and when she senses, her initial thought is confirmed; he is definitely nervous. Why? What does he fear from her now? More rejection?

 _Wouldn’t you?_ she thinks brutally to herself. _You’ve been such a sea cow..._

She still can’t look at him. Is this what he feels when he thinks but can’t say the thing she’s still waiting and wanting to hear? Paralysis? Rey thinks again of Rose. She’d told Rose he’d said it. Because he kind of had... What’s the fucking difference between thinking and saying anyway?

 _Fucking nothing,_ she hears Ben’s characteristically ardent voice say inside her head.

Rey wriggles her head and looks up. He brushes his lips down her cheek and their eyes meet. His dark, gentle ones are lit by the bright moons above them. She blinks as it hits her; just how infinitely she can gaze beyond their curved planes.

She could disappear here. She could lean in and sink right through and then where would they be? Not here, on the hard ground of Kashyyyk in the death throes of the Resistance as it struggles to find a new base that functions. Not there, in the pernicious proliferation of the First Order as it nears its goal to control the very last of the systems that bravely continue to defy it. She and Ben would be lost in imaginings, perhaps of how things might be if galactic wars didn’t exist at all.

Ben’s lips nudge the corner of her mouth.

“I can’t do that again yet,” she murmurs, pulling herself back but without breaking his unwavering gaze.

“Okay,” she hears him sigh. “Do you want me to go?”

“No,” she breathes, as she drops her eyes and begins to stare intently at his chest. “It’s cold here, you’d be much warmer there.”

“No I wouldn’t,” he says softly, as she feels his hand shift smoothly round her hip and to the curve of her arse.

Rey snuggles herself down closer to his chest and presses her lips to it, allowing the tip of her tongue a tiny taste of his skin, which is faintly salty. She can still smell the sweet trace of the blossom she’d given him earlier. He had tucked it then beneath her scrunched pillow and now the warmth from their bodies is releasing its fragrant oils and that scent is merging with the two she knows are his; the earthiness and the petrichor. She inhales these scents as she lets her mouth press itself to Ben’s skin for a second time.

“Where did you get it?” he whispers into her hair.

 _They grow in the Black Forest,_ she thinks back, her mouth still pressed to his chest.

“You collect them?”

_Me and Rose._

“You were doing that earlier?”

_Yes._

“Mysess is rare…”

_We trade it._

“But not this one.”

_No._

He grows silent. Is he sensing?

“You trade them for supplies, right?”

_Yes. But… maybe other things, too._

_“Other things?”_

_Maybe. I’m not sure yet of what I’ll get in return for this one._

She hears Ben sigh as her lips begin to brush over one of his nipples.

“You want to know what I did earlier?”

 _I saw,_ she thinks back, as her tongue begins to circle, making the tissue there begin to grow stiff _._

“You did?” he breathes, and in that breath Rey hears a second round of tremoring as she smiles knowingly.

_Yes._

“Shit, that’s embarrassing,” he murmurs, still softly and into her hair.

Rey lifts her mouth, wriggles herself gently and looks up as Ben shifts himself beside her so that their heads rest level on the surface of the scrunched pillow once more. She gazes into his eyes again, finding herself compelled by them now and aware that her fingertips have begun to stroke against the places on his chest where her lips had explored just moments ago.

“Why do you do things like that?” she whispers, frowning.

He sighs, and she sees his eye twitch. She brings her hand to his face and touches his lower lip gently with her thumb as her eyes move there too.

“You don’t have to say,” she murmurs. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Because sometimes,” he says, quietly, “There’s nothing to say, and no one to say it to anyway.”

Rey’s eyes flick back to meet his and she sees them beginning to brim. Her heart clenches as she realizes again what it is she’d done last night after Ben had fucked her slowly before thinking it to her, just before she’d told him that she thought he was lost.

“I miss you,” he repeats.

She sighs as she feels Ben’s lips begin to brush along her own. This time, she doesn’t lean away. And she doesn’t say anything. She just presses back with her mouth to his soft, hungry lips and lets them open up around her own and kiss her deeply while she closes her eyes and feels his hand slide down beneath the gauze of her lower garment.

 _I miss you, too_ , she thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this fic xx  
> I'm on holidays from work for 3 weeks (sweeeet) and updates may become a little less regular, or a little more sporadic - not sure yet which way it'll swing - but I'll do my best cos I just really do love writing this darn thing ;)


	36. Blow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 10. Part 6 of 8. Ben.

As Ben kneads at her mouth with ripe lips, and feels her practised tongue run its way beneath his own, his cock twitches for the first time in what feels like ages.

 _Twenty-four standard hours is a long fucking time,_  he thinks.

She’s still flicking at his nipple with a forefinger and every time she strikes across its hard point he feels the twitch again. His stomach begins to backflip when she shifts her thighs and lets him slip one of his own between them. Now he presses himself against Rey in the hope that what he’s doing with his own fingers to her from behind will make her start to rub him with the nub of her sex until he’s hard.

 _Ben?_ he hears her think.

He sighs. He can dream. He’s not sure he’s got the patience left for more conversation and if she’s about to ask him anything further about his day he just might have to abandon this for the exercise chamber; he could swear on his life that when he’d left that thing earlier he’d definitely not had the presence of mind to turn the holo projector off, and another round of simulating his own death in Form VII was probably the only fix if this trajectory was interrupted by renewed chit-chat.

 _Yes?_ he thinks back, bracing for the worst.

_Do you remember when you gave me those berries?_

_The chocolate ones?_ he queries, pleased that at least she’s keeping this to just a Force-talk, and not the kind requiring her to stop kissing him.

 _Yes,_ she thinks back.

 _Yeah…_ he returns, still wary but hopeful. _Why?_

_Do you remember what you were doing with your mouth before that?_

Bingo.

_Are you asking me if I remember giving you head?_

She snorts, breaking their kiss as she hears the phrase before covering the lower half of her reddening face quickly with the back of her hand, but Ben can sense the smile behind it.

“I’m pretty fucking sure,” he breathes, nuzzling at her mouth again, “That I wouldn’t forget doing _that_ to you, Rey.”

Ben puts his lips gently to her neck, kissing lightly there before tilting his mouth to her ear.

“Do you want me to do it again?” he whispers. _“Mistress?”_

“Yes,” he hears her murmur, as her hands find the back of his head and her fingers begin to run their way idly through his hair.

“Yes _what?”_ he tests. Too much?

“Yes, _Kylo,”_ she breathes.

Snap.

Ben kisses her once more on the mouth and then begins to move his own slowly down her body. As he starts work on the fabric of her upper undergarment, again he has to cast his mind back to what feels like a long time ago but which is actually only last night. Hadn’t it been warm here then? Did that mean there’d been lower light because there’d still been some degree of cloud cover above their side of the planet? There must have been; he’d been able to elevate her then, but with three moons above them now it’s far too risky tonight.

Aware of the subsequent need to stay low to her body, Ben begins to lick at her nipple with his tongue now that he’s lifted the gauze around it. Sucking at Rey helps him think and suddenly he finds that he’s stopped caring as much about several things, one of which is the anxiety he felt when he’d first arrived here not long ago; he senses that Rey is beginning to forget this, too. The other is the fear that Rebels will discover him. But he supposes they already have, sort of, and here he still is. Does this make him reckless?

“Ben,” she breathes. “Don’t…”

 _Don’t what?_ he thinks back gently, as his mouth leaves her nipple and he starts on a trail of slow, light kisses down her belly as he works her lower garments below her hips before pausing. He lifts his head to meet her gaze, because he always has to be sure.

“Do you want me to stop?” he murmurs.

“No,” she sighs, bringing a hand to the back of his head again and running her fingers softly through his hair, as before.

 _You want me to be careful,_ he thinks, sensing as his lips return to the warm, yielding skin of her lower belly and begin to brush against the soft hairs that smatter the mound of her sex as he works the garment below her knees and she does the rest.

“Yes,” she exhales, her fingers still curling gently round the ends of his hair.

Ben pauses to breathe her in. She smells warm – sweet, sour and earthy like a deep, dark honey – and when he dips his tongue just inside her she tastes even better than that.

 _“Ben,”_ she breathes as she feels him do it, and she presses her hand down flat against the heel of his head.

He spreads her folds with the fingers of one hand gently and licks at her again as his other hand caresses the back of one thigh, both of which she’s now raised. He hears her breath begin to grow ragged, sometimes stopping as she holds it, especially when his tongue flicks lightly across her clit. Her hips begin to shift. She wriggles and he uses his hands to steady them as he opens his mouth wider, pressing his lips around the apex of her cunt and sucking hungrily. Finally, Ben feels her push her hand down firmly on his head. Rey begins to pant as she thrusts her hips up, pressing her sex flush against him.

Sensing that she wants him inside her, Ben takes one hand to her entrance and dips his fingers just within. She’s slick not just from his mouth but from the pleasure it’s giving her and when he slips two fingers further in they glide along as though she’s buttered.

 _“Ben,”_ he hears her moan softly, as he repeats the slow slide inside her several times, his mouth still sucking away at her clit faithfully while his tongue flicks lazily across her.

When Ben pulls his fingers out, resting them just inside her entrance, he presses down as he hears her breathe intermittently again, holding it for as long as she can and then exhaling in sharp bursts as Rey begins to climax.

“Oh _fuck,”_ she whispers, and he smiles into her cunt as the pads of his fingers feel her muscles convulse beneath them.

Her hand presses his head down hard until the orgasm makes her muscles weak and she relaxes beneath his mouth. He starts to lift the pressure slightly so as not to over-do it, sensing when she wants this. He lifts his mouth away and licks his lips before placing a final kiss to her as her folds begin to close when he withdraws his digits.

Ben licks the fingers and wipes his mouth with the back of one hand. Then he lays his head on Rey’s warm lower belly as he listens to her afterglow. Her breath cycles down slowly, over several minutes, until he feels her hand begin to work its way lazily through his hair once more.

“That was _so_ fucking _good,”_ she whispers, eventually.

He smiles again as he moves up her body, still keeping himself low and close to her own. Then he offers her his mouth and she kisses it deeply; wrapping her lips over both of his and thrusting her chin forward. Ben accepts her inside him gratefully, allowing her to fuck his mouth deep with her tongue.

Rey pushes roughly at his chest and he complies as she climbs above him. Still keeping low but with a sense of intention that rockets Ben’s heart to his mouth, he feels his dick stiffen at first and then harden markedly as she slides herself on a fateful course down him.

_Please, Maker…_

And when he feels her mouth close around the head of his cock, and her lips start to pull along his submissive shaft, Ben thinks he could happily accept whatever fate the Rebels about to hear him have in store. He thinks then that he no longer cares, or wants to care, about anything else but Rey anymore.

 _“Fuck_ ,” he moans openly and into the ringing silence of the jungle as he tilts his head down to look at her mouth, full of his cock, and her eyes, full of horror, at his wanton use of full volume now.  _“Holy fucking_   _shit, Rey.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we were overdue for some smut.  
> Thanks for the continued support for this fic xx


	37. Make Your Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 10. Part 7 of 8. Rey.

Rey can’t get her mouth off it fast enough.

 _“What the fuck is wrong with you?”_ she hisses at Ben, as she scrabbles to her knees.

Yanking down her upper garment, she starts a blind search for the lower one because Maker only knows where that is; she certainly doesn’t, having kicked it off heedlessly minutes ago.

 _“Shit,”_ she continues to fret, still bare-arsed and fumbling beneath and around the blanket for the rest of her underclothes.

Shrill voices carry across the otherwise silent air and Rey’s sure at least one of them is calling her name. Ben still lies on his back with a hard-on, mouth slack and eyes hooded.

“Why did you stop?” he whispers, eyes beginning to widen in a beg that she forces herself with all her resolve to ignore as still she searches the ground for her misplaced clothing.

At last Rey locates her lower garment. She whips it off the jungle floor, balls it up in her fist and brings it to within millimeters of his face.

“Oh, _now_ you’re willing to whisper?” she menaces under her breath. “You are _beyond_ infuriating, Ben.”

Rey flips herself over and pulls the gauze garment up her legs so swiftly she nearly tears the thing in two. Then she tugs at her blanket and covers the lower half of both her and Ben as she tries like hell to think fast.

She could be a coward. That’s the first option. She could tell Ben to fuck off and then just lie down and pretend to be asleep. Would the Rebels believe her if she said she hadn’t heard anything?

 _Fuck,_ she thinks, as she hears their voices growing louder.

She could be a martyr. That’s the second option. She could tell Ben to stay and walk out there and meet head-on whoever it is who’s on their way over here and just let the Resistance discover them. Rey can sense as well as hear them getting closer and the voices are becoming more distinct. The loudest one sounds like it belongs to Finn but she can now also hear Chewie’s bray.

Maybe, if she did that, it would end up like that time three nights ago when Rose had seen Ben. Rose hadn’t asked any questions then, even when she’d literally watched Ben vanish into thin air. Could Rey be that lucky twice? Would Rose come to her rescue now?

 _Since when have you ever been lucky though?_ Rey snaps back at herself. _And since when has anybody ever fucking rescued you?_

She still can’t actually hear Rose, and she wonders if she’s even awake. Perhaps it’s just Finn and Chewie who are on their way over now but surely if Finn’s up, Rose is too; Rey still remembers how close she’d seen them sleeping last night.

Rey tries to slow her breathing. Her heart’s still in her mouth and its beat is still pounding away relentlessly in her ears as the sounds she fears continue their approach. Fuck this. Fuck Ben. He hasn’t even had the decency yet to help her come up with an explanation. She _needs_ him to help her; to help her craft some plan. Is that the third option? Ask for help?

Ben’s the creative one after all, she’s just pragmatic; I mean, who the fuck comes up with an alter ego anyway? Certainly not Rey. In all the time she’d spent alone on Jakku, someone else – namely Ben – might have had the nous to reinvent themselves, perhaps even several times over, but not her. Instead she’d held on for dear life to who she’d always been, afraid to let go.

Maybe Ben had been right then, on the Supremacy? Is she still holding on to who she was before she’d met him? Is she still afraid that if she loses that person who she’s always been, she’ll lose herself, too? Rey’s stomach clenches and the sick feeling returns; the one that had started earlier. Old doubts return to her about losing him…

 _Snap out of it,_ she urges herself.

Rey sighs and for the briefest moment lets herself remember – it had only been brief – but when she’d closed her mouth minutes ago around the springy head of Ben’s hard cock she’d thought he felt as velveteen as the surface of the Mysess blossom. She can still taste him. As she’d pressed her tongue flat to the warmth of his length, the flavor of him had been clean as rain at first. Then, as she’d pulled her lips slowly along him, that flavor had developed into something that lingered faintly of iron, and now she is left with umami; an insidious aftertaste still making the back of her throat salivate for more.

Maybe that was the fourth option. More fellatio. Rey could just go down on Ben again and be damned with the rest of it. Fuck the fate of the galaxy. Fuck it all. Because fucking is better than fighting anyway.

Rey hears Finn call her name again. Sensing time is nearly up, she thinks once more about what Ben’s just done, and she wonders something new. Why is he always so quiet when they fuck? Because he is, if she really thinks about it…

She understands it here, on Kashyyyk – that’s why she’s so fucking furious at him now – but in the privacy of his chambers it’s kind of odd. Well not odd, just… interesting. And maybe not something she would have expected necessarily. Not that she’d entered into this with any expectations whatsoever, but just given some of the things she’s seen Ben do firsthand, and also most of the things she’s seen him do via memories hidden away inside his own head. He is very expressive in public, but not in bed. Why is that?

Is it just nerves, or is it something about being _Ben,_ as opposed to _Kylo?_ She frowns and looks down at him. Having shifted so that now he rests on his elbows, he’s gazing back and she knows he’s heard every thought in her head as she senses Finn begin a sprint in their direction.

Rey remembers when Ben had mentioned desertion on the third night they'd done this. Would the Resistance really try her for that if they could? Surely they wouldn’t… After all, she’d saved them on Crait. And what of Ben? Would she let them capture or kill him? Would Leia let that happen?

And that was the fifth option.

“For fuck’s sake, Ben, get the fuck out of here,” she whispers.

And it’s the one she’s going to take.

 _Time to make your own luck,_ she thinks, when she senses he's gone, as she takes a deep breath and stands up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. This one was tricky. Hope it works and thanks for reading yet another chapter!  
> In response to the 'Make Your Own' prompt set by @two-halves-of-reylo this week. I took it literally because I'm desperate for prompts XD


	38. Patterns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 10. Part 8 of 8. Ben.

Jerking it gently, thinking of Rey, Ben wonders how guilty he should feel. He’s certainly left her in a whopping mess on Kashyyyk that he can’t help but feel responsible for. Contrary to what she’s accused him of though, it hadn’t been that calculated; both the volume and what he’d said had been mostly improvised. He’d succumbed to something he could no longer control, that was all.

 _Not an excuse,_ he admits to himself, pulling more firmly now. _Just a fact._

Nights have become about firsts, and this has been another. He’s been imagining her mouth around him like that for weeks. He’s been imagining just about everyone’s mouth around him like that for longer. Perhaps that’s a slight exaggeration. Perhaps also, if he was to explain that to Rey, she might understand. Probably wouldn’t forgive him any faster, but maybe one day, especially if he also manages to stop ordering the execution of Rebel allies in the Outer Rim territories and finally learns to negotiate… what’s that word she uses? …e _thically._

 _Stranger things have probably happened,_ he attempts to reassure himself, as he starts to pull on his cock with longer strokes.

Ben knows she doesn’t need him, and with that thought his chest tightens and his heart begins to pound. He should really start to give her more space than he does as he feels himself growing bigger in his hand, beginning to pass it over the glans as he imagines her mouth again while staring up at the regulated patterns of the durasteel paneling above him. But that would mean spending more time here alone, and with that thought his strokes start to get more mechanical as routine sets in now and Ben sighs, growing bored.

Maybe he should take her on a date somewhere. Where would she like to go? He knew of some places on Kashyyyk they could trek to without too much trouble, and which could be easily round-tripped in a night. How much of the planet has she seen anyway? But would she want to stay there? Perhaps she’d prefer to go elsewhere. Should he take her back to where they’d first met? That’s what couples did, right? Reminisced? Is that what his parents had done?

 _You fucking stalked and kidnapped her there though,_ he reminds himself. _She probably doesn’t want to be reminded of that._

Ben sighs, still pulling absentmindedly as he waits for the buildup to begin again. He’s resigned himself to finishing; once he starts he has to or else he ends up back in the exercise chamber. With that thought, he remembers Form VI. What would it be like to fight her in Form VI? She’d only ever used a single-bladed weapon against him; what would Rey be like to fight against with a double-bladed lightsaber?

_Holy shit…_

Ben’s heart jolts and he doesn’t even bother reaching for the rag in his drawer. He feels himself start to throb and then he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. When he comes, each pulse feels better than the last one as he watches the by-product paint his abdomen in a composition made from the very loneliest of marks.

He lies there for a minute, panting on his back in the over-sized bed of his chambers. His eyes close of their own accord and he feels the muscles in his chest relinquish their hold around his heart as his breathing slows and with it everything else in his body, including both thoughts and feelings. He could fall asleep, and probably sleep right through what little there is still left of the night. But he can feel the sticky warmth of his cum beginning to slide down the contours of his abdomen in slow rivulets and he knows he can’t stay here like this for that long. He needs to wash.

Sighing again, Ben looks down at his hand, which is still cradled loosely round his slaked length. He milks the last few drops from it and then shifts awkwardly, quickly standing so as not to drip and consequently need the rag. He hates that thing. Grudgingly his bare feet take him on a well-trodden course from here to the sonic but he pauses when he reaches it. He can already anticipate the cold needles of air against his body, which he normally appreciates, but the thought of them now leaves him feeling hollow. He wants warmth this time. He wants Rey.

Ben pads beyond the sonic and instead into the recess of the ‘fresher.

“Moderate hot,” he says, in a clear neutral tone.

He drops his wrist and turns his hand so the palm faces in and his long fingers tuck feebly beneath. He offers this part of himself to the water as though its stream were a toothed beast that might maim him, and maybe it will. But when Ben does eventually take that risk and give his arm over to the salve of the ‘fresher, the water’s sensation against his skin is enough to make him close his eyes in acceptance: he fucking loves it here, in the warmth. He’s missed it.

With that thought in his head Ben submits his whole body now to the embryonic embrace of the physical rhythms of water across the surface of his skin. He turns his back to the stream and time seems to stand still. He wants to keep himself here indefinitely, beneath the steaming beat of the water, and as it washes him clean he lets his mind drift until he finds himself reaching out through the Force to sense for Rey.

Ben can feel her need him, and his heart aches at the distance they’ve put once more between themselves. Will it always be like this with her? Will they always cycle through a predictable series of filters and traps designed to keep them both in check and on course for a fatalistic clash of beliefs? Sighing, he turns and tilts his face up, as though to ask the source of the thing that’s given life to the thoughts flooding through his mind, now that he’s opened the faucet on them.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks, as he shuts the ‘fresher off with the heel of his hand and glares at his feet, while the water ebbs chaotically around his toes in a series of irregular patterns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued reads, kudos and comments on this fic. Much appreciated xx


	39. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 11. Rey.

Rey closes her eyes, opens her mouth and places to her tongue one of the last of Ben’s precious berries. Briefly she pauses to savor its sweetness before taking in the whole thing and sucking away at it slowly.

Since he gave them to her, she has taken to doing this every night before bed, allowing herself one of these at the edge of each evening before laying her head down on her scrunched pillow and snuggling beneath the cover of her blanket. Even though the air is warm tonight, Rey still likes to feel its sense of protection around her when she sleeps. Like the berries, her blanket is one of the few comforts she has here.

As Rey sucks the last of the sweet chocolate away, and the fruit’s tart flavor makes the back of her mouth salivate, she senses for Ben. And although the darkness shrouds the empty space she’s reserved him on her pillow, she can see the artificial light of his chambers silhouetting the forms of his face now as it emerges there slowly, and he gazes back at her with anxious eyes.

 _Come here,_ she thinks to him through the bond, as she watches his eyes close and finishes the last of the fragmenting berry still in her mouth.

“What happened?” she hears him breathe.

Rey reaches out hands to him, one at his chest and the other his cheek, as his image starts to strengthen into something more tangible in front of her, and she can feel him now beneath her fingers and palms.

Ben does the same, lifting himself up off the ground and embracing her before drawing her over to top him. Rey nuzzles at his face and then places her lips to his, kissing his lower one first before opening to envelop both.

The flavor of the berry still lingers in Rey and now the taste of Ben merges with it. They knead each other slowly and she feels his tongue begin to stroke beneath hers. One of his hands finds the nape of her neck. Ben’s fingers work their way through her hair as she moans into his open mouth at intervals coinciding with the rhythm of his kiss.

Rey has a reply to Ben’s question prepared, and she will answer it, but for now her tolerance of him at her mouth and acceptance of his hands on her body tell more than her words. As though in response, she feels his other hand shift down her back and slide beneath her lower garment. Gently, she disentangles from his limbs and wriggles herself out of her lower clothing before returning to her place above him, bringing one thigh over his lower abdomen and beginning to grind insistent hips there as he lifts his mouth again to hers.

She opens once more to kiss him deeply but when she feels his fingers dip inside her folds, exploring her, she draws herself back. Ben runs the fingers lightly along her before settling them down at her clit and Rey tilts her head up, eyes still locked on his, as she attempts to bring her mouth to his yet again.

Ben’s fingers find her entrance and he works them carefully inside her, stroking at her hair with his other hand as she moans softly and finds his lips. Rey presses her own against them but is too caught up in the feel of the fingers to turn this gesture into much of a kiss; it’s more an acknowledgement between them that this is happening, and that it feels nothing but good.

“Are you hard?” Rey sighs, pressing her hips to him to feel for herself, but liking the way her question sounds, and sensing he likes her to ask it.

“Yes,” he murmurs, as she feels him lift his hips up and rub a very unsubtle bulge against her.

Rey shifts above him. In the near darkness she can straddle him, just below his hips, and fear nothing; although she no longer fears that much, given what happened last night and today. She tugs at the band of Ben’s lower garment, pulling it down firmly as he lifts his hips, helping her until she can grasp his cock in her hand and free it. Shifting again, and with Ben still in the palm of her hand, she brings him to her entrance.

Rey pauses as her eyes find his once more. Ben’s are wide and clear and she’s reminded of the expression he wore when she sucked at him briefly last night, just before they’d both realized what they’d each done. As the head of his cock snugs its way inside her grateful cunt his eyes flicker and she gasps as it skiffs just enough then to make Ben do the same. She sits down on him, sliding his full length all the way inside her. Then she leans forward and puts her lips to his again as, with his hands at her hips, she begins to glide along slowly.

 _“Rey,”_ he breathes.

She smiles down at Ben and for several minutes the galaxy is just this, and this only; the two of them locked together as their slow, gentle fuck unfolds below the warm and starless night sky of Kashyyyk.

As Rey listens to Ben begin to pant lightly, and watches as his eyes begin to mist, she lifts a hand to one breast and starts to undulate above him. His hands are still at her hips and he watches as she sits back on his hilt, works the hand beneath her upper garment and begins to play softly with her own nipple. Bringing her other hand to his chest, she trails her fingers lazily down his hard contours until they find the place where he disappears inside her. The fingers move to her clit and she begins to rub firmly there while still tweaking softly at her nipple and staring into his widening eyes.

Rey feels pleasure building in her more intensely now and she leans back further on Ben. Holding her breath, she tenses her body as her eyes start to close. When she feels him thrust she gasps the air out raggedly. Her muscles start to pulse around his base and she leans forward again, still rubbing herself and pulling at her nipple.

“I love you,” he whispers.

Her mouth can do nothing but gape at him as she collapses forward and he grasps her. She feels his hips moving quickly underneath her now. Ben pulls her to him and she doesn’t have the strength to do anything but let him. He presses his mouth against her neck as she hears him moan into it, biting down as his body lifts her up briefly and then his thrusts grow softer.

Ben holds himself there as Rey feels the warmth of his cum begin to fill her and after that she lies above him just like this for several minutes, feeling light sweat beading on the back of her thighs and a wet patch emerge beneath them.

 _Sonic?_ she thinks to him, and he mumbles something in return but she can’t quite make it out.

Rey can feel his mind beginning to cloud and drift off.

“Ben?” she whispers, shifting her body and pulling him firmly to her so they lie on their sides facing in. _“Ben?”_

His eyes flicker and he nuzzles at her, mumbling something indistinct to her again.

“Finn didn’t see you.”

“What?” he mutters, opening his eyes.

“Rose covered for you,” she says, quietly. “And Leia sensed you.”

 _I felt that,_ he thinks back, alert now and staring at her.

They lie like this for several more minutes, neither sure of what to do next. Rey’s mind is still full of what he’d said as she’d come, and she opens her mouth to take in a breath and prepare to say it back; she’s waited so long.

“Rey?”

She sighs.

“Yes?”

“You like Mysess, right?”

 _“What?”_ she mutters, frowning.

“Mysess blossom,” he whispers. “You still like it, right?”

“Yeah…”

“I know of a forest,” he says, quietly, leaning in to her and pressing his forehead to hers. “I would like to take you there.”

Rey’s frown deepens.

“You mean like… go on a _date?”_

“Yes,” he breathes. “Would you like that?”

“How would _that_ work?”

“I’ll sort it,” he murmurs, brushing his lips over hers now. “Just tell me you’ll come.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow night,” he breathes.

“Can we _do_ that in one night?” she queries, voice still low and soft.

 _Yes,_ she hears him think back, as Ben begins to kiss her. _So please just fucking say yes._

She doesn’t close her eyes, and he doesn’t close his.

 _Okay,_ she thinks cautiously back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued reads, kudos and comments on this fic. Much appreciated xx


	40. Ethics And Morals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 12. Part 1 of 7. Ben.

He honestly can’t believe she’s agreed to this. Surely he’s put her through enough disasters by now to warrant a more flagrant use of the word no? She used to say no to him all the time and now she hasn’t in nearly two weeks. Well, she has. Pretty often actually, if he starts a count so he stops. Instead he just remembers the one time she said yes to the berries, which he knows she still likes, all the times she’s ever said yes to fucking him, and then last night when he asked her out and she agreed.

Ben can’t help the corners of his mouth from curving into the smallest of smiles at this thought and he bites the inner edge of his lower lip in a feeble attempt to stop it.

 _You’ve got something on your face,_ he hears her think through the bond.

 _I think you gave me a disease,_ he bites back, rolling over. _You should really wash more often._

But he can tell she just has. Her hair is damp and he remembers its scent of Mysess as he gazes at Rey, knowing full well he’s still smitten.

_Fuck you, Ben._

_I love you, too._

_Are you going to insult me all night or are you going to come?_ she teases, as he sees her stifle a smile which only serves to grow his own.

 _Probably both,_ he thinks back.

_You could not come all night, you fall asleep within like five seconds of finishing, Ben._

_Okay, now you’ve crossed a line,_ he thinks back, as he closes his eyes.

_There is no line, Ben._

“Lost your moral high horse, have you?” he digs, as he leans over to gently pin her on her back by the wrists when he opens his eyes.

“What?” she whispers, as he watches her have about as much success at repressing her own broadening smile as he had earlier.

“Who’s unethical now?”

“That is completely inappropriate, Ben…” she starts.

“I’m vetoing this discussion.”

“You can’t do that…”

“I can, I’m still Supreme Leader.”

 _“What?”_ she hisses. “Now _that_ is unethical behavior, Ben…”

“I’ve already vetoed this discussion, Rey, it’s over. Move on.”

“That means I get one, too.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Why not?” she mutters, beginning to frown.

“Because I’m _unethical,_ Rey,” he whispers into her ear before pressing his lips to her neck.

Ben hears her sigh and feels her wriggle beneath him as he breathes in her scent, his hands still gently circling her wrists.

“Okay,” she exhales. “Tell me one thing you’ve done recently that’s been ethical.”

“I brought you presents,” he murmurs.

“That’s _morals,_ Ben,” she whispers back.

“It’s the same thing, Rey.”

“No, it isn’t,” she urges, quietly. “Morals are _completely_ different.”

He frowns. Are they?

_“Yes.”_

“How?”

He hears her sigh again.

“Are we really having this conversation?” she asks quietly, beginning to sound exasperated.

“Well, you could veto it.”

“No way,” she mutters. “I am definitely saving _that.”_

“I thought you liked having conversations with me,” he murmurs.

“I _do,_ Ben,” she sighs.

“Answer my question then,” he grumbles, as he starts to lick her softly at the base of her neck.

“Morals are… personal choices,” she says, quietly. “Ethics are more about having… standards.”

“I have standards,” he says quickly, looking up.

Why is she frowning at him like that? He knows that frown. That’s the bad kind. Is she frowning because she knows that’s true? He does have standards. His standards are not the same as hers, and she knows that’s true, too. Is that it?

“It is that, isn’t it?” he whispers, his eyes still meeting hers, searching them.

“Yes,” she whispers back.

Her smile is gone. He can sense her growing sad.

 _Veto this discussion_ , he thinks, bringing his face closer and pressing one side of it gently to hers.

 _No,_ she thinks back, but he feels her press her face back to his regardless.

Taking a chance, Ben slowly brings his lips to her cheek and kisses her there once.

 _Would you prefer me not to be principled?_ he asks through the bond as he moves his lips to hers.

 _Of course not,_ he hears her think back as she lifts her mouth to meet his.

 _What then?_ he thinks, pressing his mouth to her softly but refraining from closing his eyes. _You don’t like my principles?_ _You want me to change them? Is that it?_

Rey hasn’t closed her eyes, either. He can see them start to brim as he senses the sadness in her grow. He feels her lower lip begin to knead at his and his eyes flicker. He wants desperately to close them and open his mouth around her, but something holds him back. She’s gone very quiet.

_Rey?_

_Are we going to go, or not?_ he hears her think.

Ben pulls himself back from her and sighs, his eyes still searching hers; he’s no bureaucrat, but he’s definitely seen enough politics by now to recognize a veto, and although she hasn’t said it – like she really should – maybe he can let it go if he really tries. Maybe he does owe her that, even though she really should say it - because otherwise it wouldn’t be correct and procedural - but maybe it didn’t matter now. Maybe what mattered now was much more personal than that. She isn’t a Senator. She isn’t a Commander. She’s _Rey._

Both he and Rey are fully clothed. They’d agreed to this last night. Now Ben slides his hand somewhere beneath his cape and removes the two small bottles of Corellian wine he’d snugged there earlier.

“I paid with currency for these,” he murmurs.

 _“What?”_ she whispers.

“In Coronet City,” he continues, under his breath.

He holds the small flasks out to her and she runs her fingers over them.

“And three days ago, in the Gallo Mountains on Naboo, I traded currency for the berries I bought you.”

“That’s _two_ things,” Rey says faintly.

He offers his mouth to her, his dark eyes still searching her hazel ones.

 _I only asked for one,_ he hears her think, as she closes her eyes and lifts her mouth to kiss him, and Ben feels his heart lighten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this fic xx
> 
> I found the below tumblr discussion really interesting and I'm sure it had an impact on the themes in this chapter so I wanted to leave a link for anyone interested to read if you haven't already:  
> https://jesssssah.tumblr.com/post/175317562715/reylo-is-if-padme-told-anakin-to-get-his-shit


	41. Moving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 12. Part 2 of 7. Rey.

It’s hands down terrifying, the thought of moving. The idea that she could just stand up right now and traipse off into the pitch black of the jungle with him. They’ve walked together only once before and he’d had her cuffed then. What the fuck had she been thinking when she’d said yes to this last night?

For Ben, this is just a Force-connection but it suddenly hits Rey that she’s _actually_ about to go blindly into a jungle full of Maker knows what, and that if anything happens it will be she who’ll need to fight - or run and hide - because Ben can just vanish, although not before taking an injury with him, Maker forbid. And that’s scary, too, because connecting has become _real_ , right down to how difficult it is now to wash his coagulating cum out of her…

“Scared?” he whispers.

_“No.”_

Ben stands and Rey watches as he tucks the twin bottles back somewhere beneath his cape before glancing over one of his powerful shoulders in a final check for Rebels.

 _Move,_  she hears him think to her, as he reaches down for her hand.

“I would  _really_  suggest you…”

“Please,” he adds, quickly.

Satisfied, she grasps his hand and with apparent ease he pulls her to her feet.

“Weapon,” she hears Ben murmur. “I assume it won’t do to be defended by mine.”

“Says the warrior,” she mutters, bending to grip her quarterstaff by its handle wrappings and sling it nimbly over a shoulder.

Rey hurries at first to follow as Ben hustles, before finding a stride she can comfortably maintain but still keep pace with. Once they’ve reached the cover of a denser section of forest, he stops and turns to face her.

“What’s wrong?” she frowns. “Why did you…?”

He pulls her to him and tilts his head down to kiss her deeply. Rey sighs into his open mouth and feels her stomach drop to the forest floor as his big hands slink beneath her tabard to find the lower curves of her. She lets him hold her there for some minutes as she and Ben do nothing else but kiss in the open air without fear of being seen.

And it’s wonderful. Nothing matters to her now but the way he feels at her lips as his warm tongue searches for familiar pleasures inside her mouth, at her arse and upper thighs as his now expert hands work away at all of the compliant sweeps and valleys between her legs, and in her heart as she lets it beat for Ben.

 _Where are we going again?_  she thinks vaguely, and after a while.

 _It’s a surprise,_  he thinks back.

_Can’t you just tell me?_

_No._

_Why not?_  she thinks again, as she tugs gently at the ends of his hair.

_Well, Rey, in case you haven’t heard of it a surprise is when…_

_I’ve fucking heard of surprises, Ben._

_You sure?_ he continues to tease while lifting one of his hands to the nape of her neck.

 _I don’t cope well with shocks,_ she frets, moderately bothered, but his cradling hand at the back of her head is going some way toward soothing this.

_Sure, you do._

_I don’t, Ben. Just tell me._

She feels him pull his mouth away before he begins to stare intently at her. It’s very disconcerting when he does this, but she likes it, and even though she’s still feeling bothered she lets him continue. After several moments he speaks again.

“No.”

“For fuck’s sake, Ben,” she huffs, feeling bewildered.

“Come on,” he says, smiling and sneaking his hand around hers.

Gone is the haste of their earlier escape from the makeshift Rebel base. Now they walk slowly side by side across the nocturnal landscape of the forest, which is dappled by both dark and light in places. Patches of needle blossom illuminate around them and light a kind of path through the shadow that Rey senses Ben is loosely following. His hold on her hand feels warm and sure; this is certainly not like walking with Rose.

When she walks with Rose, Rey leads them cautiously and senses all the time. It’s frankly exhausting. Now, with Ben, Rey still senses, but she only needs to do half the work herself because he’s doing the rest.

Rey’s mind begins to drift as she relaxes beside him and they walk in step. Their feet find sure footings each time they land and she feels her knees raise effortlessly to skim the heights of low bracken, hardly needing to think at all. Every so often she feels Ben’s hand shift gently round hers, squeezing her with his fingers and palm, or brushing his thumb across her wrist. Thrills travel up her arm each time he does this and they make her stomach flutter.

Is this what it feels like to be happy? Tentatively – trusting both her own and Ben’s senses to keep her feet finding sound ground – with her heart in her mouth, at last Rey trusts herself enough to take her eyes off the planet below her and look up to the galaxy above. Clouds scatter the night sky over their side of Kashyyyk, and filter moon and starlight through the thinning jungle canopy; the landscape is changing.

“Ben?” she whispers, her eyes still raised and her feet still moving. “Where are we?”

Rey feels him release his hold on her hand and slip the arm around her, pulling her to him as they continue walking together. Her own hand works its way beneath his cape. It finds the tight curves of his arse. She runs an open palm over him before shifting her fingers down and raising her thumb up to squeeze him between the cleft of his firm cheeks as she lifts her other hand to clasp the fingers he’s draped casually about her shoulder.

“We’ve left the Black Forest,” he says, simply.

“And now we’re…?”

Rey looks to him. He’s had his head tilted down as she’s been gazing up. Sensing her move, he flicks his eyes across to her now. They’re soft, but wary.

“Nearly there,” he murmurs, bringing his mouth to her hair and pressing his lips to it.

She can still sense a cageyness about him, and because of that she finds herself instinctively returning her attention to the ground. She remembers how he’d made sure she’d brought her staff before they’d left, and when she shifts her hand to his furthest hip she can feel the hilt of his saber.

“Ben?”

“Yes?”

She pauses briefly, wondering how to ask this.

“Did you say before that…?”

“Yes,” he answers.

“How?”

Rey feels his chest rise and then hears the sigh release itself into the temperate air. She senses that he isn’t going to say it aloud. That maybe it’s one of those things he can’t vocalize yet.

“It’s okay,” she says softly. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“Chewie,” he concedes.

On hearing this, Rey’s stomach flips; he’s not said that name in her presence before. And she only stumbles slightly in response to the shock, but it’s enough for her boot to catch the bracken and before they hear it crack they both sense the movement first before turning to see the cause of it; a pair of Bantha, still as stone and yet thumping with an energy both she and Ben can feel.

 _Stay still,_ she hears him think as her stomach clenches.

 _I was going to,_ she thinks back, frowning; she knows little of creatures beyond Jakku, but certainly has enough wit not to fuck around with things this big.

 _You’ve fucked around with me though,_ he thinks.

_Oh, my fucking stars, Ben…_

_Just breathe, it’s okay._

Rey inhales shakily, trying to be as still and silent as possible, but it’s not easy.

 _Should we stop looking at them?_  she thinks. _Is that freaking them out?_

The larger Bantha takes two steps in their direction and Rey thinks instinctively of her staff.

 _Don’t,_ he warns as she feels his hand grip more tightly around her own, preventing her from acting on impulse. _Trust me._

_We’re definitely freaking them out._

_Yeah,_ he thinks back. _So slow your fucking heart down._

Rey takes an enormous breath as the alpha Bantha takes another two steps towards them.

 _Shit, Ben,_ she frets. _I swear to the Maker, one more step…_

 _Unethical, Rey,_ he thinks back.

_What the fuck are you talking about?_

_It’s just a pair of Bantha._

_That will trample us to death._

_No, they won’t. You’re over-reacting._

_ I’m _ _over-reacting? It’s alright for you, you fuck, you’re not really here…_

 _I wouldn’t leave you here, Rey,_ he thinks back, squeezing her hand more tightly as the Bantha tilts its head to the side and looks at them directly with a single, knowing eye.

“I wouldn’t leave you here either, Ben,” she whispers, as they watch the magnificent beast drop its head, turn, and move slowly back to its mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued reads, kudos and comments on this fic. All so much appreciated xx


	42. The Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 12. Part 3 of 7. Ben.
> 
> In response to the ‘Day 1: The Force’ prompt set by @reyappreciationweek which I know I am like over a week late on but I did my best to do at least one of these!

“Rey?”

Her eyes still watch warily. Ben brings a gentle hand to her cheek and cups it with his palm, stroking her softly with his thumb and tilting his face in an effort to lure her gaze.

Eventually she’s satisfied that the Bantha pair no longer present a threat to them and he sees her turn her face to him expectantly, listening. Then she reaches hands around him and he senses he can now pull her closer.

“This is not a dig, okay?” he says nervously, as he settles his hands around her waist and hopes that she won’t pull away. “Please don’t say fuck off.”

“Why the fuck would I say that?” she frowns.

Ben smiles wryly as he feels his heart expand. He still can’t help but love it when she frowns. When he’d first tried to re-connect, nearly two weeks ago now and on the night of the Battle of Crait, he’d been fixated and terrified by the thought of her frowning at him, and he still is. This planet could throw the most vicious of Shadow Keepers at him and still the only thing in this system he’d really fear is gazing up at him, one hand on the back of his neck and the other tracing the regulated texture of his quilted vest with a forefinger.

“I  _love_  you,” he breathes, as he presses his lips to Rey’s forehead and then tilts his face down to look in her eyes while he kisses her.

 _Say what you mean, Ben_ , he hears her think back through the bond as her mouth opens for him and he slides his tongue inside its warmth.

_Why don’t you use your power more?_

_The Force is not a power, Ben._

_I didn’t say it was. I just asked you if…_

_I do use it._

_Not then you didn’t._

_What?_

_Your instinct was to grab your staff._

_You broke my lightsaber, Ben._

_I’m not talking about weapons, Rey. I mean abilities._

_What, like…?_

_Manipulating things._

_Veto._

_What?_

_Veto. I’m vetoing this discussion._

_For fuck’s sake Rey, you can’t use that now._

_I just did._

_Why don’t you want to talk about it?_

_I’ve vetoed this discussion, Ben, it’s over. Move on._

She is still allowing him to kiss her and he can still feel her tongue licking lightly at his own when he searches for it. Her hands are still at the back of his neck. He can also still feel her fingers curling the ends of his hair and the warmth of her body pressed against the thigh he’s nestled between her legs.

She isn’t _that_ cross at him. Comparative to say two nights ago, or that time he was responsible for the execution in the Outer Rim, Ben senses that to her this conversation is just a minor irritation. Is it turning her on? Sparring verbally with him like this? She does seem to do it a lot…

She definitely still wants him. He can feel her thigh starting to press back between his own. That’s definitely a good thing. And it’s important to him because right now Ben can think of nothing worse than being dumped by her again, including that time he’d cock sneezed.

But Ben can also sense that she isn’t exactly pleased with him right now, either. Is this one of those times when all she really wants is a conversation? But if that’s the case, why can he now feel her hand stroking at the bulge of his cock? This is confusing.

He sighs into her as he indulges himself in the pleasure of her hand against him. His tongue is now deep in her mouth and he begins to imagine the fastest way for his hands to get inside her trousers. Ben goes through a series of options.

He could work his fingers down the back of her; that’s the first. The fabric of her trousers is lamentably utilitarian though – not at all like the pliant gauze of her undergarments – and he doubts that even if he could get his sizeable hands beneath it from behind, he couldn’t slide anything anywhere beyond the skin of her; there just wouldn’t be enough yield.

He could use the Force. That’s the second option.

_Not how the Force works, Ben._

_It is actually, Rey._

_You are not manipulating my pants off, thank you very much. That’s unethical._

Ben snorts and lifts his lips.

“How is that _unethical?”_ he murmurs.

“If you want me to take my pants off,” she whispers, still brushing his lips with hers, “Just _ask_ me to, Ben. Third option.”

“Okay, take your pants off.”

“That’s an  _order_ , Ben.I said _ask.”_

“For fuck’s sake,” he breathes, leaning in and opening his mouth around hers again.

He could lay her down and fuck her slowly on the ground right here. That’s the third option.

 _Fourth,_ he hears her think.

There’s no Jaddyk moss beneath them and it’d be nice to just spread her out on the earth in the night and spend time unfastening her outer garment from the front before working all of them off her slowly, feeling the warm air on his skin as she did the same to him. Maybe she’d like to top him, or maybe she’d like him to pin her gently on her stomach and enter her from behind while she moaned into the grass and called him  _Kylo._  

_Ben?_

_Yes?_ he thinks back, through the haze of his thoughts about her as she continues to stroke him and his cock starts to stiffen uncomfortably against his trousers.

_Ask me what I want to do._

_What?_

_Please just ask me._

_What do you want to do, Rey?_ he thinks, obediently.

 _Keep walking with you,_ she thinks back, _And then keep doing this, once we get there._

Ben kneads once more with his lower lip and then slowly pulls himself away as he feels her hand shift from his cock to his chest, and then to the back of his neck. He looks down at her and she smiles dreamily up at him, placing one more kiss at his mouth before taking him by the hand. He lets her gently coax him on, then, in the direction they were headed before they’d first seen the pair of Bantha.

“I think it was this way?” he hears her say, softly.

Ben lets her lead off and then he pulls her in again. He drapes an arm across her shoulders and feels her grasp his fingers to pull the arm down around her as he also lets her sneak a hand back to his arse, and they walk in step once more.

“Rey?” he murmurs, while their feet begin a slow, rhythmic pace across the forest floor as grasses become more frequent and the bracken of earlier disappears.

“Mm?”

“Promise not to tell me to fuck off first,” he says, squeezing her fingers gently.

“I haven’t said that in at least ten standard minutes, Ben.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Just say it, Ben.”

“Why did you veto earlier?”

“Because,” she murmurs, looking up into his dark, earnest eyes as they continue to walk, “We’re on a  _date,_  remember? Let’s have a  _nice_  time. Okay?”

Not what he was expecting.

“Okay,” he says, slowly.

“Okay,  _what?”_  she whispers, a sly smile beginning in the corners of her eyes.

Ben pauses, sensing.

“Okay,  _Mistress,”_  he breathes, as he brushes his lips over her forehead, and feels the smile spread across the whole of her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the continued support for this fic xx


	43. The Scent Of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 12. Part 4 of 7. Rey.
> 
>  _Like a great starving beast_  
>  _My body is quivering_  
>  _Fixed_  
>  _On the scent_  
>  _Of_  
>  _Light_  
>  \- Hafez (14th century, Persian)
> 
> I had quite a bad day and then dipped out of writing for awhile and then came back to this half-finished chapter and got a bit trippy with it. Amazing what a google search at 3am will turn up. Fwiw Hafez poetry is actually so reylo, I read quite a lot and kept thinking 'wow, perfect...'

If she had to use words to describe it, which Rey already knows she’s not the best at, she would say that it smells like the light, and maybe also a bit like the sun. But not the harsh flare of the one on Jakku. And not the steamy drain of the one on Kashyyyk. It smells like when she closed her eyes and inhaled for the first time on Takodana.

The first thing Rey remembers smelling there is the petrichor, and the second thing is the light. It had been gentle and unimposing, that smell. And it hadn’t asked her for anything back; she didn’t need protecting from it. It had just existed, like she did, and she’d felt satisfied for just a moment, like she didn’t yearn for anything. Not her family. Not portions. Not even company.

As Rey walks with Ben to the edge of a very different landscape from the one they’ve just left – and as something new emerges through the thinning trees around them – she can smell those two things again; the petrichor of Ben, and the smell of the light on Takodana that Rey knows now is also the top note of Mysess blossom. She closes her eyes and breathes it in.

“Can you smell that?” she whispers, as she feels him guide her further and the aroma strengthens, still faint but by now unmistakable.

“Open your eyes,” Ben murmurs, squeezing her fingers gently.

They stand at the edge of a vast field. When she looks up, no foliage obscures her view of the night sky above. The Wroshyrs and Shi-shoks hedge the field. The unobstructed light from the moons and stars above them illuminates the single-petalled blossoms. To Rey they seem as infinite as the endless expanses of galactic space, so used has she grown to the limited views of trees in the Black Forest since the Resistance arrived on this planet.

A breath of a breeze moves them. They ripple softly, as though they aren’t blossoms at all but the surface of water, and she and Ben could wade out into it and actually feel wet, the illusion from this viewpoint – and in this low, grey light – is that convincing.

In the center of the field is a darker place. From here, she can’t quite make out the cause of it. When she moves to step towards it Ben catches her fingers and she senses they’ll go no further. Wherever they are, they’ve arrived.

“Ben?” she asks, quietly.

“The Kkowir Forest,” he replies, softly. “This is the Mysess Glade.”

“I’ve never seen so many…” she murmurs, trailing off.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes,” she breathes, tilting her face up to Ben’s and lifting her chin to kiss him on the mouth. _It’s beautiful._

Rey feels him kiss her back deeply, kneading at her with his soft lips and tracing the tip of his tongue along her own. For several minutes they just do this and Rey doesn’t mind it at all. She closes her eyes and leans in to it. The scent of Ben and Mysess merge and she could be back on Takodana or she could be somewhere else. There is something here that she already knows. She can sense it. It’s on the edge of her mind…

She feels Ben kiss her once more and then slowly draw his mouth away before pressing his lips to her forehead.

“We could sit here a while?” he suggests.

“That’d be nice,” she replies, as she feels her heart flutter.

What’s _that_ about? Suddenly, Rey feels incredibly nervous to be with him and she’s sure she hasn’t ever felt that before. She’s definitely been anxious before, and worried; anxious about what fucking him would mean and worried about the thing in her arm. But that hadn’t been _nerves._ Her heart had not fluttered in the way it’s doing now. And suddenly she can’t meet his gaze. What the fuck is going on?

From the corner of her eye she sees him unfasten his weapon, piff it on the ground and then remove his cape, which he furls across a space at the edge of the glade.

“Rey?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?” he asks, as he starts to remove his boots.

She inhales a huge breath and then lets it out slowly.

“I’m really fucking nervous.”

He pauses.

“I can take you back if you want.”

“I don’t want to go back, I just…” she tries to start, but finds herself trailing off again.

“I promise I won’t bite,” he says, smiling. “Unless you ask me to first.”

She likes the way he looks when he smiles. Is that what’s making her so nervous? The fact that he’s starting to smile more? She grounds her staff and bends to start to remove her boots as Ben reclines on the cape. Facing the glade and resting on his elbows, he reaches for the bottles he brought and then it hits her; this is fucking _romantic._

“Have you ever done this before?” she asks him.

“What like, wined and dined a girl?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck no,” Ben snorts, and for some reason that makes her feel better.

“I’m not dining you by the way,” he adds, as she steps lightly onto the cape. “But you can eat me if you want, I won’t object.”

He shifts his hips and reaches for her with the hand not gripped around the bottle.

“You might be lucky,” she says, as she seats herself down between his thighs and he wraps his free arm securely round her waist, drawing her closer to his chest and settling his face in the crook of her neck. “If you’re _nice_ to me.”

“I _am_ being nice,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the skin just behind her ear. “You like this very much.”

“Yes, I do,” she says, as he offers her the bottle while beginning to lick softly at her neck.

“What is this?” she asks, sniffing at it.

“Corellian wine,” he whispers. “It’s better than Garrmorl.”

“Better be,” she teases back, before taking a large swig, and as it goes down she’s grateful for what it does to the last of her nerves.

“Good?” he murmurs. “Not good?”

“Good,” she says, taking a second sip and then passing it back to him. “How do you know so much about this stuff, I mean I thought...?”

“I only know of things my parents used to drink.”

She raises an eyebrow and turns to face him, noting the way his Adam’s-apple works down several swills this time, and after a statement like the one he just made she’s not entirely surprised as she remembers her earlier nerves.

This has happened before. He’s mentioned his parents and then wished he hadn’t. Was he wishing that now? Or is that why he’d brought the wine? Because somehow he’d thought this would be easier with alcohol?

“Do you think that’s bad?” he asks softly, passing her the bottle again.

“I don’t know,” she says softly, resting the near-empty flask in a little nook beside them and turning in to face him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe,” he murmurs, looking at her lips.

“You know you don’t have to, right?”

“I know,” he breathes, brushing his lips over hers.

“Maybe,” she starts, as she reaches for his belt, “We could just lie here awhile first, and then…”

 _I need someone, Rey,_ she hears him think through the bond, as he starts to work on her belt.

 _I know,_ she thinks back, as she lifts the vest over his head and begins to unfasten the front of his ribbed shirt.

He lies back and she slings the tabard off herself before spreading his shirt, kissing his bare chest and then beginning to work away at the fastenings of his trousers.

 _I want someone, Ben,_ she thinks, as she puts her lips to his lower stomach and her hand works its way to his cock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this, it means a lot to me xx


	44. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 12. Part 5 of 7. Ben.
> 
> In response to the ‘Escape’ prompt from @two-halves-of-reylo this week.

Ben sighs and closes his eyes as the warmth from the Corellian wine spreads through him and the warmth from Rey’s mouth comes and goes. He tunes in briefly to the ambient sounds of the peaceful night around them, but he’s lost all track of time that might otherwise be kept by things like what he can hear, such as calls in the night or the ones of an encroaching dawn.

Ben supposes if he senses he would come to understand exactly where the sun is now, but he can’t be fucked doing it; ignorance is bliss and he’s worked hard to escape that sort of concrete knowledge. It hadn’t been easy to plan a whole night away, with the potential for that to become a morning as well, and increasingly that’s what he’s sensing now; that something about tonight’s crawl to Kashyyyk is different. This may not end like it always has.

“You know,” he says, slowly. “This is clear manipulation, right here.”

Flat on his back, one hand behind his head, he opens his eyes and tilts his face down in appreciation of Rey. She rests on her belly – knees bent and ankles crossed in the air – as she trails her fingers up and down the hard extent of him, her mouth still within reach of it. She smiles at him as she closes the distance between her lips and his cock again, and his stomach flips when they make contact with his glans.

 _“Fuck,”_  he exhales, eyes narrowing as he watches her watching him. “Can you just go on doing that, like, for _ever?”_

“You’ll have to say please,” she murmurs, as she draws her mouth away again.

 _“Please,”_  he says groggily, smiling once more and shifting his hand to the curve of her arse, which he can reach because she lies at a right-angle to him.

This time, when she closes her mouth around his length, she pulls her lips along him as well and he sighs deeply again as his free hand fumbles its way to the crevice of her backside, to trace along its clothed cleft with a forefinger.

“Take your pants off,” Ben breathes softly, his eyes widening as he watches her suck.

Rey draws her lips away slowly and looks at him again with raised eyebrows and a deliberately slack mouth.

 _“Holy shit,”_  he breathes, mesmerized by the very purposeful expression on her face.  _“Please.”_

 _Yeah,_ he confirms to himself.  _Clear manipulation, right there._

 _“Please what?”_ she says, imperiously.

“ _Mistress,”_ he shakes out. “Please, _Mistress.”_

He watches as she sits up slowly and rests on her knees, reaching for the bottle and draining the small amount left.

“Ben?” she asks quietly, gazing out into the distance as she starts to unfasten the front of her trousers.

“Yes?” he breathes, eyes locked on her hands.

“What  _is_  that?” she finishes, staring out at the darkness in the center of the Mysess Glade they currently lie on the edge of.

 _Please no,_  he thinks.  _No conversations now._

“It’s not a conversation, Ben, I’m asking you  _one_ question,” she says firmly, wriggling her lower garments down her hips and then flipping to rest on her arse. “Want me to ask it again?”

“No,” he responds firmly, watching in rapture as she slides the fabrics slowly down her thighs. “It’s a tree.”

His heart skips when she frowns at him. He loves it when she frowns.

“Ben, seriously…”

“I  _am_  serious,” he cuts. “It’s a tree, Rey.”

“That’s more than a…”

“No,” he cuts again. “It’s not more than that. It’s a sacred tree, and that’s why we’re staying here.”

“Sacred?”

“Yes,” he sighs.

This is now  _definitely_  a conversation. He watches her frown deepen.

“Will you tell me later? Properly?”

“Of course I fucking will,” he exhales. “I will tell you anything you want to hear, please just…”

“Anything?”

He pauses. She raises her eyebrows again.

“Yes,” he says, softly. “Anything.”

A memory pushes at the edge of his mind, but Ben quashes it. He's not going there now - he's escaped all that before and he will do it again here - and he stares instead at Rey with hooded eyes while listening to the rustle of her lying back down on his cape, and not to the sounds in his head. Watching her shift and wriggle her way closer to his hips, he closes his eyes again as Rey’s fingers stroke along him. Then he feels her soft lips kiss his glans once before warmth floods around the base of his length again and she’s sucking him off once more.

Ben’s free hand finds her curves, now bare, and he runs a flattened palm over her cheeks before slipping his fingers between her upper thighs and feeling his way to the warmth of her sex. He massages her there for several moments before dipping two fingers just inside her as she closes her mouth over his glans again and sucks.

Rey moans softly, mouth still full of him. Hearing this, Ben slides his fingers further inside her cunt to find the spot she loves him to rub at, and he does it gently at first, and then with more ardor; it’s the least he can do, given what she’s doing with her mouth.

_Ben?_

_Yes?_

He feels her push her hips back at his hand, sliding herself along his fingers a little, correcting them slightly to hone the pleasure he’s giving her.

 _What will happen when we go back?_ he hears her think, sensing she’s satisfied now that he’s rubbing her right and feeling her relax again.

 _What do you want to happen?_  he thinks back, as she wraps her palm around his girth and starts to jerk it slowly, tongue licking firmly.

 _What do you want to happen?_ she answers through the bond, as he feels her muscles begin to quiver and watches her hips as they shake.

 _“Rey,”_ he groans, as when she closes her mouth around him the thought train leaves the tracks. “I’m _coming…”_

 _Ben, tell me,_ she presses, as somehow he keeps his eyes open just enough to watch her start to swallow him.

He exhales, closing his eyes in relief and tipping his head back in ecstasy. Ben gives his body gratefully over to Rey as the ripples of the climax move through it. And his hand is still inside her as he feels the last of her pleasure spread from the muscles just inside her entrance to everything else beyond.

“Oh,  _fuck…”_  he breathes, and that’s all he can manage as he lies beneath the night sky on Kashyyyk.  _“Fuck…”_

Ben feels her mouth lift and senses her body shift slightly beside him. Then he feels her head lie itself on his abdomen. He opens his eyes a fraction to gaze down at her sleepy hazel ones, gazing back. She is curved towards him, and when he breathes she moves with him.

“I love you, Ben.”

He blinks as his eyes begin to brim. He hasn’t heard her say that in nights. She raises her head and leans up to kiss him, shifting her body so that now they lie side by side. Ben wants to keep his eyes open – wants to watch her kiss him – but something familiar gently closes them.

 _Manipulation,_ he hears her think, very faintly. _Right here._

As his heart expands Ben feels her open her mouth to take his own within it. Her tongue licks lovingly at his and then her hand is on his cheek, stroking the scar she gave him and mirroring a gesture he's been trying to forget again but now it's flooding through him, as he feels her shift until she’s pressing herself possessively down on his pacified body. And he can't escape from either her or the memory anymore.

“Rey,” he whispers.

When she lifts the trick, and his eyes re-open, they meet hers. They're knowing eyes. And Ben's overflow with tears when he sees her smile at the words he says now, that he knows she’s been aching to hear and that he also knows he's been waiting to use just like this; as not a statement, but an answer. Both a gratitude and a destination.

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued reads, kudos and comments on this fic. You are all amazing xx


	45. Fairytale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 12. Part 6 of 7. Rey.
> 
> In response to the ‘Fairytale’ prompt from @ofserien and @lucifersdeckerstar for #reyloveweek.

_Ben?_

The inside of his mouth still tastes sweet like the wine.

_Yes?_

But underneath that is the faintly clean, metallic flavor that she’s grown used to sensing when he opens his mouth for her tongue.

_Do you remember what you said before?_

Moments pass by silently until Ben slowly draws his mouth away from their kiss and Rey holds her breath. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t remember. In the heat of the moment he may have forgotten what he promised, and she certainly won’t hesitate to remind him if he has, but she holds on and gives him time and eventually he answers; he hasn’t forgotten. Well, he’s managed to recollect the crux of it, at least.

“You asked me to tell you a story,” Ben eventually replies.

He still lies on his back, and now she lies down too, bringing her cheek to rest on the flat expanse of one of his spacious shoulders. His lips brush lightly through her hair every so often as they both face the glade. Rey looks out at it again. There is the grey sea of rippling blossoms and then the dark center at which she can’t help but stare until she draws her gaze away, with a concerted effort, and tilts her head up to look at Ben. 

“Did they tell you stories?” she asks him, as he flicks his eyes down to meet hers.

Ben’s sigh is so enormous Rey nearly slides right off his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” he says uncomfortably, as she repositions.

“I just mean,” Rey tries to re-start, feeling nervous again and fumbling the words. “I just never had stories…”

For several moments she searches his eyes and wonders if she should stop this. She can hear her heart pounding and her stomach does flips as she waits and wonders what to do next; she doesn’t want him to leave. She’s never really asked him that many questions, just a few here and there. And he’s made it very plain that he hates conversation.

“I don’t _hate_ it,” he interrupts.

“Alright,” she concedes. “You dislike it at specific moments.”

“Agreed.”

They’ve just never spent this much time together, apart from that one time when they’d fallen asleep after drinking Garmorrl and Rose had woken them at dawn. But they’d been asleep for most of those hours, so just exactly how do you _fill_ that – the hours – if you don’t talk? There’s only so much sex you can have, and then what? What do couples actually _do_ with all that time they spend together? Rose would probably know…

“It’s been a long time, Rey,” Ben starts slowly, interrupting her internal monologue again. “But there’s something I remember, from a long, long time ago.”

“A bedtime story?” she murmurs, still looking up hopefully at him. “Like, a… fairytale?”

“I remember _one.”_

She sits up quickly.

 _“Really?”_ she breathes. “Tell it to me.”

Rey sees his face cloud with something and his eyes glaze slightly before he turns his gaze to the glade. Sensing, she reaches for the second bottle of Corellian wine. Clutching it as Ben sits up, then stands, she watches while he contemplates tucking his reddened dick away before pausing and grasping the bottle she's passing up to him instead. He pops the cork.

She takes a moment to gaze up at him, tall and broad and dark against the starlit sky; the moons have dipped below the horizon line and there is less light edging the landscape, but the soft starlight silhouettes his edges and he looks ethereal in it, as though in some sort of transition. He drinks from the bottle, passes it down to her and then sits down again on the cape, knees up and with his forearms resting on them, his fingers lacing and unlacing while he stares at them intently, and she stares at him.

“Tell it to me?” Rey asks this time, leaning in.

Ben turns his head to look across at her facing him, with legs crossed beneath herself, and still bare from the waist down.

“Nice angle, huh?" she says, with a wink.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks skeptically, gazing at her spread cunt and beginning to smile.

“No,” she says.

Ben drops the knee closest to her and stretches out a palm to touch the skin of one of her thighs.

“Yes, you are,” he murmurs.

“Please tell me a story,” she says again. “Wait, I’ll lie down first.”

“Will you now?” she hears him say as she wriggles down on her belly, arms bent and tucked beneath one cheek, turned in to face him.

“Yes,” she says, matter-of-factly.

All of a sudden, she feels warmth across her lower body and she senses he’s thrown her tabard over it. Rey smiles and closes her eyes.

“I’m ready now,” she says, softly. “Go.”

Ben snorts.

“Okay,“ he starts. “Once upon a time…”

She can’t help it. Rey laughs.

“Fuck you, I’m not doing this.”

“Ben!”

“Fuck off.”

Rey sits up quickly.

“Ben, I wasn’t laughing _at_ you!”

“You sure fucking were, and you’re still fucking doing it.”

“Ben, I’m _not!”_ she says, still laughing.

“Are you kidding me?”

“I’m just _laughing!”_

“Well stop fucking laughing, then.”

“But I _like_ it!” she says. “I like hearing you say, _Once upon a time.”_

“Fuck you.”

“No really, _please_ Ben.”

“I am _never_ fucking doing that again.”

“ _Please,”_ she implores.

Rey stops laughing and brings her hands to his face, turning him firmly to look at her and she stares intensely into him, trying to emulate what he always does to her that’s so disconcerting and yet makes her know he’s really fucking serious. And there’s no trace of a smile on her face now.

 _Please Maker,_ she thinks to herself, _Let him sense that._

She sees him frown at her, but he doesn’t say anything further.

“Ben?”

Still saying nothing, he continues to glare but again she interprets that as permission to keep going.

 _“Please_ tell me a story,” Rey says once more. “And I won’t laugh. Not once, unless you want me to, I _swear_ it _.”_

He sighs, the glare still there but softening.

“I’m _not_ telling you _that_ story,” he starts, as her expression falls. “But I could tell you something else, if you really must hear _something.”_

“Okay,” she murmurs.

“You wanna lie down?”

“Yes,” she says, as he reclines with her and only after he takes another large swig from the second bottle of wine.

Ben offers her the rest and she drains it, discarding the small flask near the first before settling herself down again. Rey lets him gently roll her body over with his big palms and tuck his warm thighs beneath hers to spoon it. Then he throws the tabard across them both, slipping his upper arm beneath his cheek and drawing her in closer. She rests her head on his forearm and listens.

“In the center of a glade, in the Kkowir Forest on Kashyyyk,” he starts, as they both look out into the grey field, “There is a tree.”

Rey stares at the clearing.

"Surrounded by Mysess blossom, and tended by the Outcast Wookiees,” he continues, “The Great Tree makes its home.”

Her eyes shift to fix on the shadowed place.

“It grows alone, to lift hope and spirits, during dark hours to those who seek it out.”

Rey stares.

“And if you are alone, and hope is lost to you,” he ends in his deep, rhythmic voice, “Go there and feel light.”

“They really used to tell you that?” she asks, after the resonant sounds of his voice have trailed away and several moments have passed between them in silence.

“No,” he murmurs, pulling her closer and pressing his lips lightly to her hair. “Chewie did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this fic xx
> 
> I've been writing drips and drabs of a new fic, set maybe like 5 years after TLJ called 'What They Grow Beyond' and am thinking of turning that into a spin-off of this work when it wraps. I will write a version of Ben telling this Wookiee story (which is canon) soon! I will post it to my One Shots work until I can get my shit together enough to actually start another work xx


	46. Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 12. Part 7 of 7. Ben.

Ben feels her wriggle in closer.

“Still cold?” he asks quietly, as she pulls his arm more firmly round her.

“A little,” he hears her mumble in admission at last.

He draws her nearer and brings one of his thighs to rest across her hips, insulating her below the thin fabric of the tabard he’s slung across them. Beneath it she’s still bare from the waist down and even though the air in the forest has remained mild, this concerns him. He still remembers how he’d felt when Rey had nearly frozen to death on the Falcon, and his mother had allowed it.

“Rey?”

“Mm?” she murmurs sleepily.

“Do you have to be back at dawn?”

Ben feels her shift slightly again. He softens his hold on her briefly and she rolls in to face him. Then he wraps her securely with his body once more.

“No,” she whispers, gazing groggily up at him before flicking her eyes back down. “I told Rose I was going somewhere with you. She said she’d cover for me.”

“Until when?” he asks, as he feels her snuggle herself in closer to his chest.

“I said maybe midday,” she mumbles, faintly. “Ben, I might fall asleep here…”

“That’s okay,” he whispers into her hair.

“Will you sleep, too?”

“Probably.”

“Is that bad? Do you have to be back?”

“No,” he says, softly. “I sorted it.”

She mumbles something else but he can’t quite make it out.

 _“What?”_  he whispers, nuzzling her.

“What if someone finds us?” she murmurs, turning her face up to look at him.

Her hazel eyes are heavy and he can’t help but smile at her stoic attempts to keep talking, even as she fights sleep.

“Who would find us?” he teases, quietly. “Monsters?”

She brings a hand to his chest, makes a fist and gently presses it against him in a feeble thump.

_“Ben…”_

“There’s nothing here to be afraid of,” he murmurs. “The monsters are in the Shadowlands, far from here.”

“What about Wookiees?”

“Wookiees aren’t monsters, Rey,” he says quietly, recalling the story, and the Wookiee who’d first told it to him.

“I know  _that,”_  she mutters, pressing her fist to his chest again. “But won’t they see us and…?”

“It’s okay for us to be  _here,”_  he says, softly. “We’re not  _in_  the glade, we’re at the edge of it.”

“What about other things?”

“What other things?”

“Well, the Bantha,” she presses. “What if they come back?”

“I’ll protect you,” he soothes.

“Protect me from the monsters,” she mutters, trailing her hand down the warm, hard contours of his stomach – to the cock he still hasn’t bothered returning to his pants – before running her hand softly back up to his chest.

“You don’t need protecting from monsters, Rey,” he murmurs, as her fingers slide over one of his nipples, and he feels a thrill travel down him as her eyes begin to close.

“Sometimes I do…” she mumbles.

“No,” Ben breathes. “You don’t hide in your bed from those.”

He presses his lips to her hair.

“You invite them in,” he whispers, inhaling her familiar scent and sensing her drift off to sleep.

Even here, at the edge of the Mysess Glade, Ben can still smell Rey, distinct from everything else around him on Kashyyyk. From the moment he’d been close enough to sense it, the very first night they’d been together like this, he’d known that scent would always bait him – earth and blossom – even when the source of it was far, far away and only able to be reached through a bond; it would call and he would answer.

Rey stirs beneath him, her muscles twitching faintly as the first wave of sleep settles her body down. Touching a palm to the skin of one of her bare thighs, Ben makes sure it’s still warm. Her garment still covers them, and although the night has cooled it’s not cold; even so, he senses the coldest time is probably now, as the planet’s face seems darkest, just before dawn.

Ben can feel himself growing sleepy, from the effects of the Corellian wine and the sounds of Rey’s slow, deep breaths, which begin to sedate him. He looks out at the sea of grey Mysess, which from his low vantage point on the ground seem tall as trees.

Their tear-shaped heads sway softly, as though lulling his brain, rocking it gently to sleep. His eyes close briefly, and as he shifts his cheek against Rey’s warm hair he’s reminded of something – things that also used to rock him to sleep – but those things are harder to define than the things he can see in front of him now.

Something feels familiar. His mind is foggy from the wine and the after effects of sex and thoughts keep flitting away before he can pin them down and muscle from them understanding. He’d only ever wanted to show Rey the Mysess. He’d  _planned_  that. And then earlier, when he told her he loved her, he’d thought of destinations; the  _end_  of journeys. He’d planned that, too. Those thoughts all made sense.

But now his thoughts drift to the start of a new path; something wants him to follow it. Is it Rey? She’d deliberately tricked him earlier, is she doing it again? Is she coaxing him?

 _No,_  Ben thinks.  _It’s not Rey tricking now._

He bites down hard on his lower lip.

 _Think, you fuck,_  he bullies his brain through the increasing haze of the wine.  _Fucking think._

When had he first felt her influence again?

It had started after he and Rey had been caught. Two nights ago, and just before he’d returned to his chambers to use the ‘fresher. Rey had told him what her friend had done, what the traitor had failed to do, and then she’d told him the thing about his mother. The thing Ben already knew; that his fucking mother had sensed for him then, and still is.

A sickening churn begins in his stomach. He stares defiantly out at the glade. The edges of the blossoms start to turn a faint blue, and when he lifts his resentful lids to the sky it, too, is beginning to turn from grey to an inky hue. And he bites down hard on his lip once more - desperately fighting both her and the light - as dawn rises anyway on Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeek, this became an angsty headfuck inspired by my evening on Monday! lol 
> 
> Thanks for the continued support for this fic, greatly appreciated xx


	47. Gauntlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 13. Part 1 of 6. Rey.

It has never felt better to be horizontal, including that time Ben had first kissed her cunt with his pillowy lips and his warm and adoring tongue. The obstinate ground on Kashyyyk just might be the softest place in the galaxy now, her body is that tired; if only Rey could wrangle her brain into being as compliant.

When she’d returned late morning, minus Ben, she’d briefly considered sneaking up into the Falcon for at least a standard hour or two of further sleep, but the guilt had already set in by then; she doubted she could allay it for long enough to sleep anyway, even if she had managed to convince herself that more was deserved. It was her fault she was tired. And hungover.

Ben tugs at Rey’s thoughts again. Something feels different, but she can’t quite put her finger on what. It feels like last night, when he’d had two of his inside her, and they hadn’t quite felt right but then she’d shifted and that’d felt better; something niggles at the edges somewhere. Something is troubling him.

 _Fuck,_ she thinks, scrunching up her scratchy eyes and rubbing them, as though the action could either bring sleep or at least volunteer a solution; she's sick of thinking.

There are things that Rey knows she needs to talk about now. She should sort them out first, and then Ben. That’s logical, right? Maybe go and wake Rose? And then what? What the fuck would she say?

“Rose?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever had a secret that you couldn’t tell anyone, but that could affect everyone, especially if they found it out?”

“Is this about your Force-user?”

“Yes. He’s in the First Order.”

Rey snorts into the night. Fuck that. Ben was right. Rose was smart and she would flay her alive the very minute she put those pieces together.

Should she go and wake Chewie? After all, he already knew; he’d warned them that time it had rained. And even before that he’d flown her to the Supremacy, which had admittedly taken some arm twisting but in the end he’d agreed. Rey sensed Chewie still cared for Ben.

Or she could go and wake Leia. Should she do that?

 _No,_ she thinks to herself.  _Just a galaxy of no._

That only left Chewie. She frowns and purses her lips, shifting her body again on the ground below and staring up into the clear night sky. It isn’t something she wants to do. It would probably be like talking to Han and he’d always seemed to resent two-way conversations. She supposes that’s where Ben gets it from.

_For fuck’s sake, I don’t resent conversations._

Her heart skips, but only after she jumps a parsec from the shock of the intrusion.

_Fuck, Ben._

_That would be fine now,_ he thinks back.

She rolls her eyes.

_Did you block me?_

_No._

_I couldn’t reach you before._

_I was elsewhere for a while._

_Elsewhere? What the fuck does that mean?_

_Elsewhere,_ he thinks back, _Means somewhere else._

 _You are a truly maddening shit sometimes,_ she thinks back, sighing and sensing evasion but also the need not to push for the explanation just yet.

_But you love me._

_Yes,_ she thinks back, frowning.

Rey can see him now. He looks as tired as she feels. Has he not slept at all? She’d had a few standard hours in the very early morning at least…

 _Are you okay?_ she thinks, sensing his trouble again and feeling renewed concern.

_Come here._

She raises her eyebrows expectantly.

 _I’m not saying please,_ he thinks back, mulishly. _Just do it._

Rey sighs.

“No,” she says, softly.

Ben glares silently back.

 _I can do this all night,_ he thinks.

 _No, you can’t,_ she thinks back. _I’m giving you one more standard minute and then I’m blocking. I don’t need this shit now, Ben. I’m really fucking tired…_

 _Then come here and sleep,_ he urges.

_Thirty standard seconds remaining…_

_Please._

Not exactly happy - happy enough - Rey closes her eyes and reaches for him, feeling the soft bedding below her as she senses the aromas of petrichor and light, things of air; these are the scents that remind her of Ben. She smiles - happiness rising - and prepares to shift her whole body to his but pauses, still sensing that something is wrong. Instead she reaches cautious fingers, and he takes them gently in his own.

“Tell me,” she whispers, frowning, as he draws her hand in.

“Stop frowning,” he breathes, flicking his gaze to her lips then back to her eyes.

“What? Why?”

“Just stop,” he murmurs, bringing her hand to his mouth and beginning to kiss along the tips of her fingers, still gazing across.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” she says softly, as Ben begins to suck at her fingers.

“It’s nothing,” he sighs, reaching for her hip now.

“No, it isn’t,” she breathes, feeling his warm palm begin to curve its way around the bare skin of her thigh and trail up across the gauze of her light garments, to find other bare expanses of her skin.

Rey closes her eyes and smiles, thinking back to the glade and the way she’d felt there, free from the stress of needing to hide. It had been perfect, being with Ben in the open air, and she lets him bring his lips to her neck and begin to leave light kisses there slowly as she remembers what they’d done, feeling his breath on her skin and taking in his own scent as he takes in hers.

“Please tell me,” she whispers.

“Did you see her today?” he murmurs back.

Rey pauses, sensing. Now the pieces begin to move. Not yet click, but the puzzle is taking shape.

“I try not to, actually,” she mutters.

“Answer the question,” he says under his breath, with his mouth still pressed to the skin just below her ear. “Please.”

“Yes,” she breathes.

“Did you talk to her?”

“Yes.”

“About me?”

“What?” she utters, frowning again and pulling her face away to stare at him.

“Stop frowning,” he murmurs, flicking his gaze away once more.

 _“Why?”_ she urges, still frowning.

Rey stares into him, shifting herself so he can’t avoid her gaze and he ends up reclining on his back as she lifts her body to rest on a forearm and look down at him as he stares up, with soft, tired eyes that yearn for something.

 _Conversation,_  she thinks, as she sees his eyes begin to brim. _Go._

“You’d fallen asleep,” he starts, his voice just a murmur. “I sensed something.”

“Go on,” she says softly, bringing her hand to his chest and flattening her palm against it.

“Don’t trick me,” he says, warily.

“I promise I won’t, Ben,” she says, truthfully. “I swear it.”

“You remember the story?”

“The one you told me?”

“Yes,” he replies. “What it said of the light?”

“Yes,” she says, cautiously.

“I watched the sun rise,” he continues. “I felt the light. I held you. But I pushed her away.”

“What?”

“Tell her to stop it.”

“Stop _what?”_ she says, warily.

“Interfering.”

_“What?”_

“I need you to tell her,” he says in a warning tone. _“For_ me.”

“Why?”

“Because if she doesn’t I won’t come back, Rey,” he says, plainly. “And I want to.”

“Ben, I can’t…”

“Promise me,” he tests. _“Please.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this fic, much appreciated xx


	48. Sonic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 13. Part 2 of 6. Ben.

Ben had stripped and gone straight to the sonic. That was the first thing he’d done. He’d wanted to feel cold again, more than he’d wanted warmth and much more than he’d wanted sleep.

And sleep required a certain amount of presence of mind anyway, an awareness of just how tightly wound he was first so that he could unwind and coax it; slow the cogs and the gears enough to find the kind of gentle cadence that then induced it.

Because in the early hours, shit-faced and mad as hell, he’d laid there on the edge of the Kkowir Forest for what had felt like ages, over-winding until he’d felt jammed at the mainspring. He’d nearly worn a hole right through his lower lip with the effort it had taken him to stay there with her and cope, not vanish. And he’d still been winding when he’d returned here this morning.

Still prostrate, his head pounds. Ben thinks again now of the sonic’s cold. He waits for Rey to answer as still she looks down on him, propped on her forearm beneath the plush covers of his bed. And he notes her expression. It’s changed. She looks sad.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks. _Don’t look like that._

“Please don’t give me ultimatums again, Ben,” she murmurs.

“I’m not,” he mutters guiltily, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see what he senses coming next.

“You are,” she whispers, as he hears her voice begin to crack. “You know you are.”

Ben sighs, bringing a hand to his eyes and rubbing at his temples with a forefinger and thumb. He can’t do it to her. He can’t order her to do fucking _anything_ and not feel the implications of that; dominating her. She’s too strong.

And she just doesn’t tolerate that shit anyway. Maybe she wants to. There’d been recent times when he could ask her to do very specific things, and she would. Is that what he needs to do now? Play _that_ game with her? The one in which he calls her _Mistress_ and she calls him _Kylo._

“Do you want to leave?” he asks vaguely, eyes still closed.

“Of course not,” Rey breathes, bringing a hand to his cheek.

Ben feels her touch the tips of her fingers to his lower lip.

“You look like shit,” she says, very softly. “Did you wash already?”

“I used the sonic,” he says.

“That’s not washing,” she chides.

He opens his eyes a fraction. Her fingers still touch timidly around his lower lip, which smarts; had he been conscious of just how much that part of his body was hurting before? Or has it all just blurred; the dull pain from the hangover, the dizziness from lack of sleep and the swelling from the bites he’s made to the inside of his mouth.

“I’m going to start the ‘fresher,” he hears her say quietly.

“I’m not using it,” he sighs, closing his eyes again.

Ben feels her draw her fingers away and then the warmth of her leaves him. He hears her feet pad across the durasteel floor of his chambers, a faintly sticky sound finding his ears each time she lifts them, and when the sounds stop he hears the faint gather of first one then two undergarments as they land lightly on what must be the hard floor of the warship as Rey undresses.

“Moderate hot,” he hears her say clearly, the stark space providing nothing to absorb the waves that make up the sounds of her voice as they travel seductively between her mouth and his ears.

Ben sighs again, frustrated. He had a very clear plan a moment ago and he can feel it rapidly going to shit, as with eyes still closed he begins to imagine what she must look like now, bare and wet in the ‘fresher.

 _Come here,_ he hears her call to him through the bond.

He remembers undressing her, nights ago when she was freezing and she couldn’t ask him for help, but he’d helped her anyway. He’d peeled her wet garments off her then and carried her to where she is now, because she couldn’t even walk herself over there. He’d held her frigid body beneath that Makerdamned water and then, when he’d put her down, he’d watched and waited for her to be better. Why the fuck won’t she help him now? Why isn’t she waiting for him?

Ben feels his cock twitch. Even through pain, that want is still there and it’s compelling. How compelling? What’s he prepared to do for it? She’s doing this for a reason surely and besides, he’s clean enough. The sonic washes, it just doesn’t use water; air cleanses too.

But air is cold and she’s set the ‘fresher’s thermostat high. He remembers now how he’d felt beneath its torrent, three nights ago, as the warmth had embraced him and the steam from the heat had drawn from his body needs in him for warmth, and for Rey.  

He rolls to one side and sits up. When his bare feet hit the floor, his breath catches. It’s too cold, that floor. He needs to lift his feet, but he won’t; he doesn’t want to. He presses his soles down hard, increasing the surface area and feeling a keen sting penetrate the thickened layers of the skin beneath his feet.

Rey has stopped calling to him now and he wonders briefly if she’s blocking him. If she’s given up already. Maybe she only came here to wash? What are they all even doing on Kashyyyk, to wash? There must be a source of water, maybe something underground that someone has tapped and that the Empire hadn’t fucked up in the days when they used to mine it…

 _Is that it?_ he thinks to himself, but she answers.

_I’m not telling you. You’re being stubborn._

_“I’m_ being stubborn?” Ben says aloud, opening his eyes and then wishing to the Maker that he hadn’t, as he sees her silhouetted through the steam.

“Yes,” Rey says, turning away, and his eyes rake over the curves of her from the back as he feels his cock twitch again. “Where are your pants?”

Ben looks down as he stands, watching his cock begin to rise and wondering the same thing. He still has no idea what he’s done today; where he’s been, who he’s talked to, what he’s ordered. Had he made approvals? Have there been new sanctions? Has he travelled? He vaguely remembers something about Mos Eisley. Did he go there today? Did he think about going there?

“No idea,” he mutters, as finally Ben starts to pad naked to both Rey and the ‘fresher in resignation, cock bobbing.

“Come here, you fuck,” she murmurs, reaching out to pull him at last beneath the aid of the water’s warm and rhythmic flow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued reads, kudos and comments, much appreciated. Special mention to lunalunemoon whose feedback is helping a lot to keep this thing consistent and in some sort of order - it’s become such a beast!!


	49. Terms Of Endearment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 13. Part 3 of 6. Rey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a content warning not already covered by the tags: this chapter borders on dubcon at times.

“For some strange reason, I don’t think that’s a documented term of endearment, Rey,” he mumbles, as gently she turns him away.

The water begins to beat down on Ben’s pecs. Rey runs one palm over his hip and down his thigh as the other finds his flank. Her fingers locate nooks between the edges of his abs and she holds him there beneath the warm flow of water. The rise and fall of his chest settles down in a deep, steady rhythm and Rey starts to feel moderately guilty again.

“What?” she asks, feigning innocence.

 _‘You fuck’,_ he thinks wearily, as she watches Ben tilt his massive frame forward, leaning in to the ‘fresher to immerse his whole face beneath its flow.

“Well, what about _‘sweetheart’_ then?” she offers, staring at the clear rivulets running down the angles of his muscular back, and over the taught curves of his arse as the water leaves his body in small streams.

 _I can’t imagine_ _you,_ she hears him think again, _Using that term in anything other than a highly sarcastic context._

“Why not, sweetheart?” she says, typically oblivious and frowning at his bare arse.

A very wet snort of derision issues through the water before Ben tilts his head up and turns around to face her, feet wide and body slow.

“I think I prefer, _‘you fuck’,”_ he says, with a remarkably convincing amount of certainty.

To Rey, he still seems exhausted. His hands move gingerly to her waist, and when he draws her to him she reaches her arms in a gesture akin to an offering, almost sorrowful. He nestles his face in the shallow of her neck and she traces her palms over the powerful forms of his broad shoulders, and around the solid contours of his traps. Her forearms come to rest comfortably there as droplets of water land on her skin, dripping from the ends of his hair.

“You know I’m just teasing you, right?” Ben murmurs, as Rey feels him pull his face back slightly to press a cheek to hers.

“That’s all I was doing to you,” she says quietly, mildly miffed as she feels him press closer and shift a little.

Rey notes the contrasts in the textures of his body again as day-old stubble and lashes brush together against her skin. His eyes move magnetically about her face, as though searching. In response, she tilts her gaze to his before shifting one hand to his nape, sliding the tips of her fingers beneath the wet ends of his hair and running them over the surfaces there, exploring.

She watches closely as Ben’s gaze tapers and a weak smile lightens his face. The skin beneath his eyes is still faintly grey but his lower lip looks less inflamed; the water’s warmth has soothed it. Very gently, she presses her lips to his tender flesh and then draws away, eyes never leaving his.

“Does it hurt?” she asks, quietly.

“No,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to hers as though to prove it before drawing slowly away.

“I’m sorry I called you that,” she says, staring at his chin.

Rey feels him bring a hand to her jaw and trace it with the tips of his fingers. Then he tilts her chin up gently, runs his thumb across her lower lip and presses his mouth to hers. She kisses back softly.

 _Do you remember what I asked you earlier?_ she hears Ben think through the bond, lips still closed around hers.

_About…?_

_Yes._

_I’ve been trying not to,_ she thinks back, beginning to feel uncomfortable again as she kneads back at him with her lower lip.

 _Why do you avoid talking to her?_ Ben thinks.

Rey draws her mouth away.

“Why do _you?”_ she asks, pointedly.

The shadow that crosses his face, then, sends a shiver through Rey and a thrum straight down to her cunt. Her heart rockets to her mouth as Ben’s dark eyes stare into her. She shifts her gaze uncomfortably, trying to find a focal point elsewhere – maybe his lips, maybe his chin, maybe his chest – but the temptation to look back to his hypnotic eyes is too thrilling.

Unaware her feet were even retreating, suddenly a steely cold makes contact with the surface of Rey’s bare back and she jerks forward. Ben still stands directly in front of her bare, wet body, his hands at her waist and his face still so close she can feel the temperate drips from his hair landing on her shoulders and running down her bare breasts. When she arches away from the chill of the durasteel wall, the tips of her nipples press to his chest and her mouth goes slack. He has her pinned.

“Ben…”

The water still beats from the ‘fresher, but they’ve moved beyond its reach now. Rey feels him nudge a thigh to her sex. She shifts her feet compliantly, letting him work the thigh smoothly between her own and press against her nub.

“Nervous?” he asks, eyes still locked on hers.

“You’re playing games,” she whispers.

Seriously, who the fuck is _he_ to intimidate _her_ again? They’ve been down this run more than once, and on not a single one of those occasions has Ben won. Rey wonders why he’s trying this again. Has he forgotten all that? She doubts it; he still wears the scars of her physical victory, and there’ve been numerous psychological ones, the most recent of which was only last night at the edge of the Mysess Glade.

“Am I?” he tests again.

“Yes,” she breathes, feeling him press his thigh more firmly to her sex as her stomach clenches and she hears herself start to pant faintly.

Earlier, Rey had thought of a puzzle, and now some of its pieces are beginning to click. What would it be like to stand down? To let Ben win, and accept his terms?  She’s been pliable before beneath his hands, both here and on Kashyyyk. Maybe that’s all this is; a ‘sex thing’, as Rose might say. But Rey’s only ever let him trick her once, so is that what he’s doing now? Is this payback?

“I’m not interested in mind-tricks now, Rey,” he dismisses, eyes moving slowly down the dripping forms of her body. “Dry yourself.”

She squirms again beneath his gaze, which is so palpable she can almost feel it licking the droplets that still cling to the surface of her rapidly chilling skin, now that it’s left the warmth of the water. She doesn’t move.

“No,” she says, softly.

She feels him bring a hand gently to her breast and begin to trace around its outer curve with a forefinger, his eyes never leaving hers. Then she feels him softly anchor the tips of his long fingers just below her pliant flesh and touch the nail of his thumb lightly to her nipple. He scrapes the nail across it gently. Rey gasps softly, arching her back as her chin tilts forward and he leans in.

“Do you like this?” he breathes.

“No,” she whispers, voice catching slightly in her throat and she knows he’s heard it.

 _Fuck,_ Rey thinks.

“Are you sure you don’t like it?” he repeats, softly.

“No,” she answers again, as she feels his other hand slip its way down her flank to her outer thigh and begin to stroke.

Ben brings his lips to the skin beneath her ear, opens his mouth and with the tip of his tongue licks once before drawing away.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispers.

“No,” she shakes out, and just before he takes his hands away.

“Dry yourself,” Ben says again, as he begins to pad slowly, naked and dripping, to the other side of his chambers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this fic xx


	50. Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 13. Part 4 of 6. Ben.

Still damp, Ben sits on the edge of his bed with his broad back to the bathroom chamber and listens to the sounds of the sonic; a hum that is soft, familiar and robotic. He imagines Rey’s flesh responding to its cool, concentrated air; dimpling in places as the waves caress her bare body in a uniform pattern, so different to the chaotic, inefficient flow of water from the 'fresher.

Does her stomach tighten, too, when the needles of air move from her lower hips to her flanks? Do her nipples grow hard, like his, even before the cool currents reach that high? Does the mechanical sound of it soothe her in a primitive way she can’t explain, just like it does to him?

Ben thinks again of her hands on him; the way she traces the tips of her fingers down his flanks and past the sculpted creases at his groin to his upper thighs. It sends shivers through him. Her touch is arousing, but it’s also pacifying; when she does things like that he feels peaceful. Once, she lulled him to sleep that way; just by touching him there, and like that.

Lost in thoughts, he’s suddenly aware that the sounds of her behind him have changed. The sonic has finished its short, pre-programmed cycle and now he hears the familiar sound of her feet padding lightly across the sterile floor. He senses her hesitate. He hesitates too.

The pain in his body has improved. His lip feels less stung and when he presses his tongue lightly to it he finds that the swelling has reduced, the surface feels smoother, and the flavor it leaves in his mouth is much less metallic.

The pound in his head is now more of a dull ache. The soft beat of the water has soothed that, too. He’s still tired – nothing but sleep will resolve that fact – but his eyes feel clearer, the steam from the ‘fresher having drawn from them some of the fatigue as well as grits accumulated from over a standard day without washing.

Ben brings a hand to his face. Pressing a forefinger and thumb to the skin just below his eyes he flattens the edge of his hand and runs it over the surface of his skin, feeling it prickle uncomfortably beneath his palm. He needs to shave.

As he sits, the crook of his hand still rubbing along his jawline, he feels her mount the bed behind him as his mattress gives way in the places where she lands and tremors reach his body. He drops his hand to his side and tilts his chin down, turning slightly but not enough to look at her yet.

Ben feels Rey place dry hands at his shoulders, anchoring her fingers at his clavicle and pressing her thumbs firmly into his traps, either side of his neck. She massages there slowly. Then he feels her body shift behind him on the bed again and she presses herself to his back before her hands travel forwards, beyond his shoulders, and to his upper chest.

“I need you to tell her to stop interfering,” he says again, sensing the need to get that said before this descends into another episode of carnal submission, as her hands slip all the way down to his thighs and she trails her fingertips lightly up the contours of his abs and pecs, returning them to his shoulders.

Ben sighs. Should he take control of her again? It’d been surprisingly easy earlier, when they’d still been in the ‘fresher. She’s gone very quiet. Does she want that again? She’d seemed to like it before, although she’d fought him at first.

He closes his eyes as he feels her apply pressure to his shoulders, coaxing them backwards. He leans against her as she shifts again. Knees bent, she relaxes her thighs either side of him now as his head reclines and comes to rest in her lap. She cradles him there, bent slightly forward and with one of her hands stroking lightly down his flank as several minutes pass in silence between them. Then he hears her sigh.

“I’ll help you,” Rey says, quietly. “But _you_ need to talk to her, too.”

Ben opens his eyes. He reaches for her hand but ends up gripping it by the wrist. His stomach clenches and he has an urge to sink his teeth to his lip, sucking in the still tender skin and nibbling softly in consideration before changing his mind and running the teeth instead up and down the outside of it. He releases her hand and sits up to turn and finally face her.

She still sits with her shoulders tilted slightly forward, naked, spread-eagled and hand still in the air, mid-stroke. He lifts his hips, bringing his knees to the surface of the bed and within reach of her. Pressing a hand to her sternum he kneels above her, watching. Then Ben applies pressure and she drops as he senses as well as sees it in her eyes; concession.

He lowers his upper body, dropping broad palms either side of her shoulders as he feels her toes and the balls of her feet begin to brush at his flanks as her ankles creep around his hips and he lowers his face to her mouth, pressing closed lips softly to hers at first.

Droplets of water that still slide from the ends of his hair fall about them to the surface of his bedding as he opens his mouth and kneads the warm mouth below him. When it opens, he feels her hands wrap his biceps, stroking the firm contours there before she runs them down to his lower forearms.

Sensing, Ben shifts his knees below Rey, bringing them beneath her upper thighs to support his weight as he lifts it off his hands and reaches for her wrists.

“Place your hands here,” he murmurs, sliding her arms above her head. “Palms up, and don’t move them.”

She raises her eyebrows, but he doesn’t say please. Instead he shifts backwards and stands once more on the cold floor, still naked, and with parts of him still damp but drying in the mild climate of his chambers.

Ben clasps at her ankles and pulls them forward. She slides towards him and he drops to his knees, but the brutal chill of the hard floor below him is forgotten when he buries his face in her warm, yielding cunt and slides his tongue inside its entrance.

 _“Fuck,_ Ben,” she utters, as he feels her wriggle and then her hands begin to push his face away roughly

“I told you not to fucking move.”

 _“For fuck’s sake, wait,”_ she huffs, sitting up and frowning at him as he stares back at her, bewildered.

 _“What?”_ he says.

She likes this. Doesn’t she?

“Have you got a… droid, or something, that you use for like… hygiene?”

_What?_

_“What?”_

“You need to fucking _shave_ Ben,” Rey says candidly, bringing a hand to her folds and touching the tips of her fingers there tenderly.

He blinks.

“Do you have a hygiene droid?” she says again.

“Yeah, it’s in the…”

“Wait there.”

 _Shit,_ he thinks.

Still on his knees, he sits back on his feet and glares at his bedclothes. His mind still feels empty. Through his fatigue, moments ago he’d struggled to focus for long enough to ask her what he had, about talking to his fucking mother, and now his mind wanders again, this time to what he’s done today.

Mos Eisley returns, but he’s sure he didn’t travel there; he’s been here all day, he’s almost certain. He must’ve _thought_ about going there. So, why? Why had he remembered that shithole?

“Look up.”

Lost in his head, he jerks at the sound of Rey’s voice. She sits, still naked, on the edge of his bed with one hand reaching out to his face while the other holds a small, steel apparatus he knows well.

“Did you just fucking…?”

“Yes,” Rey says. “I’ll re-attach it later.”

She leans forward as she coats him in clean, warm water that she’s carried all the way from the bathroom chamber in the cupped palm of her extended hand.

“Hold still,” she says gently, as she reaches out to his face with a glinting set of precision blades she's just removed expertly from the droid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued reads, kudos and comments on this fic. Much appreciated xx


	51. Alpha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 13. Part 5 of 6. Rey.
> 
> This was planned as a 5-part night but I’ve added an extra. It was just too fun to let this one not behave.

“That’s better,” Rey murmurs, tracing the tips of her fingers across the newly smooth surfaces of Ben’s lower face.

“You do know that dry shaving’s really bad for the skin, right?” he teases, pressing a hand to her sternum and returning her to his bed. “How could you treat me with such wanton disregard?”

”Yeah, well, so’s getting pash rash on my fucking...”

“Maybe,” he cuts, as he places hands at either side of her shoulders, and sinks his mouth to her neck briefly to whisper in her ear, “We could try this again.”

He mounts the section of bed above her and sinks his knees either side of her hips. She lets him gently coax from her hand the droid part she still clutches and senses him discard it somewhere nearby.

Droplets of water still fall from his hair and when they land on the surface of her body they’re cold, pimpling her skin and stiffening her nipples.

As he looks down her, his gaze penetrating her forms with a familiar degree of appraisal, Rey shivers again at the thought of how exposed she is now beneath him.

He takes one of her nipples between a finger and thumb and gently begins to pull at it. Her mouth slackens and she shakes in air, lifting her chest as he lifts his hand to pull up and then finally release her.

She feels Ben shift his weight forward. He leans in and brings his face beneath her hair. His teeth graze lightly across the skin of her neck while his fingers tug softly at her nipple again. Then she feels his mouth press down with open lips, and he licks to soothe the places he’s been rouging with his teeth.

His strong hands clasp her wrists then and pull them roughly above her head. The gentle touch of earlier is gone but his voice is still deep, soft and terribly convincing.

“If you move your hands from here, I stop,” he murmurs.

Rey holds her breath as she feels his palms move to her open thighs and the rest of his body shift to the floor.

 _“Fuck,”_ she mutters, releasing the breath she’s been holding and feeling his mouth close over her spread cunt.

His tongue presses flat and pauses. Then he licks firmly along her once, from entrance to clit, before drawing away.

With her palms still face up where he left them, she shifts her hips, feeling the urge to press down into his bedding and roll them. But he catches her with strong hands and pulls her further forward, so her tailbone rests just beyond the edge of the bed, preventing her from doing it again.

“No,” Ben says softly, bringing his hands below the curves of her arse to support her hips. “You only get what I give you.”

His mouth opens around her entrance and his tongue slides its way inside her. She feels his nose rubbing at her clit as he buries his face in deeper, tongue thrusting and hands grasping at the supple flesh of her arse in his fists.

“Holy  _fuck,”_ she gasps, as she fights the urge to wriggle away and at the same time yearns to shift her hands and drive his face even deeper, or tug at her nipple, roll it over between a finger and thumb and gently twist at it; anything but lie here passive, submissive and prone.

 _Don’t move your hands, or I stop,_ he reminds her through the bond.

 _Fucking arsehole Force-connection,_ Rey thinks to herself, as she feels Ben reposition.

One of his hands leaves her arse and she feels him spread the one that remains there wide, covering both cheeks and supporting her hips. Then he slides two of his long fingers inside her, pauses, and withdraws slowly.

 _“Ben,”_ she breathes, struggling again not to shift her hands and bring them to her own body.

She’s aware of her toes, beginning to curl when he slides the fingers in for a second time. Taking his time, he withdraws again as she starts to feel her way to his body with her feet.

“Keep your feet where they are,” he warns.

“Fuck you, you said  _nothing_  about feet,” she challenges. “Only hands.”

His body is over hers faster than lightspeed. She watches him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand and then bring his face down to her ear.

“Say that again,” he whispers.

“No,” she breathes, longing for him to just drive his cock deep in her cunt now and fuck her harder than he ever has.

“You don’t want me to stop,” he whispers again. “So, don’t make me. Yes? Say it.”

“Yes,” she surrenders.

“Yes  _what?”_  he whispers once more, before drawing away, eyes still locked on hers, even as his feet find the floor.

“Yes,  _Kylo.”_

She can see him now. His hair is still damp, but no longer dripping. His body is lightly flushed and his cock is hard. She breathes heavily through her slack mouth as he shifts her, bringing one leg up by the crook of her knee with his forearm, and holding her open like that as his free hand finds her folds again.

Rey hears herself begin to pant as he slides two fingers inside her again, all the way to the final knuckle. His smallest finger begins to rim her and she gasps as at the same time he repeats the slow withdrawal from her cunt, and then the whole action again. Still he holds her spread with his other forearm, watching her reclined on his bed with hands - palm up - above her head.

She has an urge to close her eyes as pleasure starts to build and she feels the muscles around her entrance start to firm.

“Don’t look away,” he says softly. “Say it.”

“Yes,” she breathes, eyes narrowed but still fixed on his as they observe her intensely, monitoring. _“Kylo.”_

He brings a thumb to her clit and starts to circle it lightly. She tilts her head back a fraction.

“Don’t look away,” he reminds her, quietly, as he withdraws his fingers slightly from her cunt.

Rey feels the pressure at her clit increase and her muscles begin to ache and flex as he presses down just inside her entrance with the pads of his first two fingers and still rimming gently with the smallest. An intense pleasure builds beneath his deft hand that she longs to prolong, and yet doesn’t think she can tolerate much longer, at least not without breaking eye contact.

 _“Mistress,”_ he breathes, as she tentatively wraps her bent thigh around his hips and he permits it as she pulls him closer when she starts to come.

Rey hears herself moan something indistinct to the ceiling then, as unable to stop it she tips her head all the way back, closes her eyes and lets the pleasure peak at his digits before it spreads through every inch of her.

Ben draws his hand away and she drops her body to the cushion of his bed, speechless and panting heavily, as now he grips her below the upper thighs and slides her along his bedclothes. He pulls her up to his mouth and kisses her cunt for a final time. 

"I fucking love you," he murmurs, locking his dark eyes on hers.

 _"Ben,"_ she exhales, as he drops her hips to the level of his own and sinks his length inside her, all the way up to his balls. 

 _I fucking love you too,_ she thinks, as speech continues to fail her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this fic. Much appreciated xx


	52. Tatooine Sunburn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 13. Part 6 of 6. Ben.
> 
> Sorry to early readers, found some continuity issues. Fixed now x

He’s so tired that it’s over almost as fast as when they’d first fucked, though not quite, because he knows now he can keep it inside her at least; but these half-formed thoughts are only background noise anyway as Ben begins to come.

Deep within her warm, slick cunt, her ankles wrapped tight around his hips and his hands still pulling her hard to his hilt, his eyes close as he feels the pulse, and then the ripples of release flow through him.

Growing weak at the knees, Ben shifts her and she reaches for his tiring body as it collapses gratefully beside her on the bed in his chambers. She rolls him gently to his back and moves protectively above him, nuzzling at his face. He reaches heavy hands to her, feeling light sweat coat her in places, and smelling her familiar scents as Rey kisses the skin she earlier shaved.

Ben hasn’t slept in nearly two days. Exhausted, he braces as the familiar sensations of a vision loom; phantom flavours in his mouth and a warmth spreading through his belly that has nothing to do with his afterglow. And now he remembers what he couldn’t before about Mos Eisley, and why; making love to Rey is like a Tatooine Sunburn.

“A _what?”_ she mutters, as Ben feels her lift her mouth from the skin just below his jawline.

“A Tatooine Sunburn,” he says, sleepily. “It’s a drink. You never tried it?”

“You’re joking, right?” she deadpans. “How the hell would I have tried that?”

“Sorry,” he smiles, eyes still closed.

“Ben, don’t fall asleep yet,” he hears her say.

He opens his eyes a fraction. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair is ruffled around the back, a temporary impression he’s left from all the time he spent making her lie before him earlier, teasing. He sighs at the memory, feeling his heart expand again and his stomach flip.

 _“Ben?”_ she prompts, as he feels her press rousing lips to his mouth and then nuzzle at his jaw again. “Tell me about the drink.”

He blinks, still lost in the thought.

“I only had it once,” he says softly, beginning to run his hands across her lower back, feeling the contours there in another effort to keep himself present enough to somehow keep talking.

“Is it alcohol?”

“Yes.”

“You know a disproportionate amount about alcohol for someone who’s supposedly never had much of a social life,” she says, quizzically.

He snorts.

“What’s it taste like?” she asks.

“Super sweet,” he says, recalling the phantom flavors that had returned to his mouth earlier. “Kind of bitter as well, but good. Syrupy. And… pretty.”

 _“Pretty?”_ she queries, frowning. “Sunburn is definitely _not_ pretty, I can vouch for that.”

“Pretty like _you,”_ he breathes.

He smiles again as her frown disappears and she brings her mouth close to his once more.

“Like a _sunrise…,”_ he adds, putting his lips to hers briefly and feeling his heart lurch again.

“They make it nice. It has all these colors…,” he murmurs, trailing off.

“Who’s _they?”_ she asks, as through his sleepy eyes he sees her raise curious eyebrows.

“The Meltdown Café,” he says, quietly. “It’s a diner.”

“The _Meltdown?”_ she says, snorting. “Well, that’s fitting.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” she says quickly, as still he watches her cautiously while she fights a guilty smile. “Please keep going.”

Ben frowns but only until she touches the tip of her nose to his and brushes him with it, gazing into him with wide, earnest eyes that he knows he trusts. But he feels a familiar creep then that has nothing to do with her typically dry comment at his expense, and his stomach roils out of habit.

 _It’s okay,_ he soothes himself, inhaling deeply before letting the breath out slowly. _It’s just a memory._

He senses Rey pause, as though she's sensing too, and then waiting; he’s felt her do this before.

“You don’t have to tell me…,” she begins gently, as he feels one of her hands begin to stroke lightly at his chest.

“I _want_ to,” he murmurs, searching the hazel of her eyes, as though the words he needs now are written there, waiting for him to read them. “My father sometimes took me there.”

Ben watches her and waits but she’s stopped asking questions. She’s waiting for him. He breathes in.

He can’t talk about his mother – he can hardly even _think_ about her lately without having a nervous breakdown – but his father has become a topic he’s finding easier to raise with Rey, and for some reason it feels good afterwards, even though it isn’t: what he did then, and what Rey saw.

 _But Rey’s still here,_ he thinks to himself, letting go of the breath.

“It’s on the Smuggler’s Moon.”

 _“Nar Shaddaa?”_ she frowns, and Ben feels her tense.

“You’d be safe there, it’s not Nal Hutta,” he says, quietly. “And you’d be with me.”

_“What?”_

“I’d like to take you,” he murmurs. “It might be… fun.”

 _“Fun?”_ she says, frowning. “There’s nothing _fun_ about Hutts.”

Ben smiles.

“They serve the drink there.”

“Your father took you to a place like _Nar Shaddaa_ as a _child_ for a _drink?”_ she gapes.

“No, I was older than that by then,” he says, feeling the churn in his stomach lessen with every word he says to her aloud. “He took me to Mos Eisley as a child, though.”

“Where the fuck is that?”

“Tatooine,” he murmurs. “He ordered it there.”

“The _drink?”_

“Yeah, I remember the colors. He let me try it.”

“Holy shit…,” she breathes, raising her eyebrows.

“We could get food, too,” he says, growing sleepy again as he begins to imagine it. “You and me. On Nar Shaddaa. What do you eat, anyway?”

“Apart from you?" she quips. "Everything that doesn’t run from my starved hands, Ben.”

He snorts faintly.

“So, you can wine and dine me all you want,” she adds.

“Tomorrow night, then?” he asks, smiling and closing his eyes again. “Date?”

“Maybe,” she says, quietly. “I need to talk to your mother first, remember?”

 _Oh, shit yeah,_ he thinks, eyes jerking open.

His stomach lurches and he feels the all too familiar urge to chew at the inside of his lower lip. But before he can she presses her mouth to his and slides her tongue inside him, and the habitual temptation is quickly forgotten.

_Ben?_

_Yes?_ he thinks, as he lets her tongue continue to salve at his inner mouth.

_Did you really mean that before?_

_Mean what?_  he thinks again, as he feels Rey pull her mouth gently away.

“What you thought earlier,” she murmurs, staring at him. “About... making love to me.”

“Yes, I did,” Ben whispers, gazing back. “It’s even better than fucking you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this and for sticking with this fic. It means a lot to me xx  
> I think this work has maybe up to a week's worth of nights still left in it. If there's anything you'd like more of between now and the end of this fic, or have plot requests, please let me know either here in a comment or a tumblr ask @jesssssah and I'd be happy to work it in xx


	53. Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 14. Part 1 of 8. Rey.
> 
> Slight adjustment to the timeframe. Story is the same, no changes.

Rey hopes he slept well into the morning, and that he hadn’t woken ‘til late. He’d been so tired last night and his exhaustion troubled her.

Her senses had woken her in his chambers at the crack of Kashyyyk’s dawn, and she hadn’t ever felt it happen like that before. It had always been Ben who’d either woken her, when he’d sensed it was time, or who’d stayed up all night waiting til it was. 

She’s not sleepy now. But it’s not because she can’t sleep. It’s not because the ground is hard and she’s uncomfortable. It’s not because the air is too cold, or too hot. It’s not because it’s about to rain. And it's definitely not because she’s waiting for Ben to Force-connect and kiss her cunt and then just talk to her for hours until first light, or until she falls asleep in his arms. Although she wouldn’t mind any of that.

Rey lies alert on her scrunched pillow now because she's listening for the sounds of Rebels.

_Are you going to tell her?_

_Please be quiet, I’m trying to listen._

_This is not loud,_ he thinks back.

_Shut up, Ben. It is._

She purses her lips and frowns. He’s gone quiet. Has she hurt his feelings again? Maybe she has... Why is she always so fucking _reactive?_ Her frown deepens and she sighs in frustration, and maybe just a little hint of guilt. 

 _Ben?_ she thinks sheepishly, sensing he’s still there.

If she turns to face the sound of his voice, she knows she’ll be able to see him, head resting on the place she always saves for him on her pillow.

But if she does that – turns to face him – she won’t do the rest of this, she knows it, and he wants her to do it. _She_ wants to do it, too; she’s doing this for _him_ , and because she promised to. But what if he _is_ upset? She also promised, a fortnight ago now, never to wound him again.

Rey turns. Just a vision, he’s there but quiet. Eyes soft and dark. Are they brimming? Is he upset? She remembers when she didn’t care at all about his feelings. Long ago, she used to want to kill him. And later, when this had first started, she’d begun to care somewhat, but not very much. Certainly not ahead of her own feelings; she was still too cross at him then.

She had cared more, then, about her own desires. Was that selfish? She’s never really had _wants,_ apart from one, which she’d clung to and which she may even have created through sheer dogged belief and _convinced_ herself that she couldn’t shake off. Was that childish?

But meeting Ben had changed that. When she’d met him she’d discovered new wants, and she definitely couldn’t shake those. They weren’t childish. And she knew she couldn’t deny them, especially when he was close enough to touch and it was dark enough to imagine that there wouldn’t be a consequence in the morning if she did cave in to them. Has she fulfilled her own wants by _using_ Ben?

But maybe time had changed that, too _._ Ben wanted things from her, maybe even _needed_ things. Rey understood needing, much better than she understood wanting. Like this: what she’s promised to do now. Ben _needs_ her to do this, just like she had needed him to tell her the truth about her parents. Right?

And what’s time anyway? Nothing? Or everything? In the darkest hour of night, morning seems like a lightyear that you’re forced to walk in bare feet. An eternity. But really, it’s just a few hours. And if you wait long enough they’ll all pass because that’s what hours do.

 _I’m sorry_ , she thinks, as she gazes across through the bond at Ben.

He doesn’t respond immediately. A moment ago, she’d have been grateful for the lull in Force-chat, but now Rey’s afraid of the silence.

 _Say something_ , she thinks to Ben.  _Say something mean._

He stays silent. Is he _really_ upset this time? Or is he just teasing her again? Maybe the wounded expression he wears now, and the silence, are just part of the sabacc face. He'd spent a good portion of last night tormenting her and he liked it when she ribbed him back, didn't he? He used to, but maybe he doesn't anymore, or maybe he only likes it at certain times... Now Rey begins to panic.

“Ben,” she whispers into the cool, clear night on Kashyyyk as she lies on her pillow, facing his image through the bond and waiting desperately to hear him speak. “Please say _something.”_

_You’re really going to tell her?_

Rey sighs in relief.

 _I’m going to fucking try,_ she thinks back.  _Remember what you promised_.

_I didn’t promise anything._

_Yes, you did Ben, you promised to talk to her, too._

_I can’t do that, Rey._

_Yes, you can,_ she thinks back firmly.

_You don’t understand._

_I don’t understand?_

_No,_ he thinks, glaring at her as she frowns back at him.

 _ I _ _don’t understand what it’s like not to be able to talk to parents?_

_I didn’t mean that…_

_Well, what did you mean, Ben?_ she thinks, as her eyes start to prickle. _Tell me what you fucking meant if that’s not it._

_She needs to stay out of this._

_She cares about you. She needs to do that, she’s your mother._

_She doesn’t_ care, he thinks back, lip quivering. _She was never even there._

“Ben,” Rey whispers, as she feels tears welling in her eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he says softly, leaning in.

Somehow, he’s there in front of her now. Rey can feel his hand at her hip. Her own hand is at his chest, her fingers clutching at the skin there. How long has she been doing _this_  for? How long has he been _here_ for? Has he done this on purpose, or has it somehow just happened? Ben’s leaning in and she’s doing the same - he definitely wasn’t this close before - but now his lips are so near she could kiss them, and she does, through her tears of frustration. And Ben kisses back.

“Please don’t cry,” he murmurs again, as he shifts a hand to the back of her neck and pulls her in to the safety of his chest.

“You said you wouldn’t come here anymore,” she whispers.

Rey tilts her head up and he wipes spilt tears away from her cheeks with his thumb.

 _“You’re_ here,” he whispers. “It’s hard to stay away.”

The tears have cleared her head and Ben’s body has eased her panic. Rey kisses him once more, and then she places both hands at his chest and very gently pushes back. His hands slip from their hold on her as she prepares to move and he vanishes, but she can still sense him. He’s staying close.

Listening intently again, and hearing nothing but the soft swish of the mild breeze as it whispers its way through the Wroshyrs, slowly Rey pulls herself up into a sitting position and stops, sensing. She can’t hear Rose or Finn, who are closest. She can’t even hear Chewie, who’s usually still alert at this time, often still hunting for Bantha.

 _Reach out,_ she hears him think.

 _I’m fucking trying to,_ she thinks back, but just out of habit, not malice.

Sensing it’s safe, Rey moves to her feet. Still wearing her trousers and tunic, she pauses to let her body catch the light breeze and feel its temperature; should she take her blanket for warmth? It’s probably better to have it than not. She picks it up, furls it round her shoulders and begins to walk carefully, sensing all the time; it wouldn't do to be caught now.

Silently, she wends her way across the sleeping Rebels’ camp until she senses the Falcon, and its silhoette emerges through the dark jungle landscape.

In that instant she freezes, her heart in her mouth and feeling panicked. What the fuck is she doing, standing here half-dressed in the dark and wrapped in a blanket, when she could be sound asleep by now, or maybe fucking Ben?

 _Shit,_ she thinks, swallowing thickly.

She could go back. Just forget it, walk back carefully, the way she came, and lie back down and go to sleep.

 _Don’t be such a fucking coward,_ she thinks to herself, as she hears her heart pound in her ears. _Move._

She can’t sense Ben. And for some reason, that’s helpful. She needs him at a distance. She senses it’s right. Maybe he does, too.

 _Time for an awkward conversation,_  Rey thinks, mustering her courage and bullying her feet onto the gangway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this fic, much appreciated xx


	54. Poetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 14. Part 2 of 8. Ben.
> 
> Slight adjustment to the timeframe. Story is the same, no changes.

He can still taste the faint salt of her tears. He can still feel the lingering warmth from her body snuggled into his chest as he’d held her. He hadn’t even meant to end up with her on Kashyyyk – just connect from his chambers and stay at a distance – but when she’s upset his heart aches, and he can’t help but comfort her.

Ben shuts off the ‘fresher.

Rey seems to upset herself a lot. Is this somehow his fault? He’s wondered before if he should reassure her more. The topic of parents had done it this time and this racks Ben with a renewed sense of guilt. He should never have mentioned her parents to her. He’d only ever seen them in a vision, for fuck’s sake, and he’d only brought it up because he’d wanted time; time to convince her to stay on the Supremacy.

Ben activates the sonic.

Should he have stayed with her tonight? She’d indicated for him to leave in the end though, even though he knew she wanted him to talk to his mother, too. But he’d sensed it was right to leave her to it, even though he knew when he next connected, and tried to convince her to come out again with him, she’d probably fucking say no.

“You fucking left me all by myself to talk to your fucking mother,” she’d say.

And she’d frown, and that would make him horny as fuck, because it always did. And then he might try something on her like kiss her or slide his hands down the back of her lower garments, which would be completely fucking inappropriate because she’d be really fucking seriously mad at him for ditching her there to do that alone: a thing he’d asked her to do on his behalf, because he was too chicken shit to do it himself.

Ben pads barefoot to his closet.

Asked her to do? Ordered her to do? Manipulated her into doing? One of the three, he’s not quite sure which. He does hope, though, that it had been asking.

Anyway, one thing he knows for sure is that he’d definitely piked on his end of the bargain. He’d known he was lying to Rey when he’d said he hadn’t promised to also talk to his mother. He knew he fucking had, even though at the time he’d made that promise last night he’d been astonishingly sleep deprived, on top of having close to one of the worst hangovers he’s ever had in his life.

Ben fastens his trousers.

Not that he’s had that many, and it probably wasn’t even much of a hangover; he didn’t really have that much experience with them, and he and Rey had only shared two small bottles of Corellian wine in the forest anyway. Although he knew he’d drunk most of it; it had settled his nerves.

Ben reaches for his sleeved upper garment.

Contrary to what Rey obviously thought, though – that Ben was some kind of raging alcoholic – he has now had sex on more occasions than he’s been drunk. Should he tell Rey that? It might even be a romantic moment; maybe he could tell her at the diner?

“Rey?” he’d say seductively, staring into her adoring eyes.

“Yes, Ben?” she’d reply as she leaned in closer from across the table, unable to resist his dark, smoldering gaze or his pouty lips.

“I’ve fucked you more times now than I’ve been wasted.”

Poetry. He should write that down. Smiling, Ben reaches for his quilted vest.

Will he  _ever_  talk to his mother? Ben senses he will, and maybe that’s why she’s making him so fucking angry lately; because he knows that time is approaching, he can feel it. And the closer he grows to Rey, the quicker it approaches.  

Is he maybe also still thinking about that time he’d tried to destroy her on the Raddus but chickened out? That had been humiliating. He’d sworn to himself afterwards to never let that happen again; to never let his mother interfere with his plans, even if they were... that. It was the principle of the thing that bothered him; he was an  _adult_  now, for fuck’s sake.

What if she’s doing it again right now? What if they’re plotting something against him? He senses Rey wouldn’t do that to him, though. Not now. She ribbed as good as he did but it was hot, and when it wasn’t they always made up.

Ben reaches for his footwear.

He senses his mother  _might_  do that, though: undermine him. He’d sensed what she’d thought of him on Crait, and what she’d told his fucking uncle. That’s why he’d grown so furious in the Kkowir Forest; his mother had been trying to turn him then because she’d lost faith long ago in a son she thought couldn’t be saved. Or couldn’t save himself, to be more precise.

 _Bitch,_ he thinks.

Again he considers reaching out now to Rey. Perhaps he could just sense for feelings. But what if he senses that she feels sad or needs him? It would likely end up like it just had, with him not just connecting but travelling back there to Kashyyyk, and Ben isn’t ready for that.

If he reaches out to Rey now, or connects, his mother will sense him. He knows it. She might even sense his plans to take Rey to Nar Shaddaa and he can’t risk that. The consequences of bringing a compromised mind to that place are too dangerous. He needs to ensure they’ll be safe, and to do that he needs a strong mind, especially given he’s taking her there to drink.

Dressed, Ben sighs as he reaches for his saber.

When he’s with Rey, his mind often empties. When he puts his mouth to her, she mutes the doubting voices in his head. When his fingers slip inside her, the pain in his heart lessens and the space it leaves is in the shape of her. And when she’s around his cock the physical escape is indescribable, and he can imagine things he never thought he would.

 _The shuttle should be fine,_ he imagines now.

And with that thought Ben closes the door on his chambers, unsure of when he’ll return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this fic, much appreciated xx


	55. Cold Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 14. Part 3 of 8. Rey.
> 
> Slight adjustment to the timeframe. Story is the same, no changes.

With legs crossed beneath her, and arse freezing from the cold of the durasteel that penetrates the fabric at the seat of her trousers – no easy feat, given its heavy weight – Rey sits stalled, halfway up the entrance ramp of the Falcon.

Hands clasping the blanket still draped about her shoulders, she stares up into the clear night sky above Kashyyyk. The moons are just slivers now but even so, with no cloud cover the starlight is bright enough to light the view of the jungle from here with a peaceful, silvery hue and while she’s no closer to standing up and walking into the ship to confront Leia, at least she’s still able to think.

Thoughts of Ben return to Rey. Perhaps she’d been wrong to assume this would be easier without him. Perhaps? Fuck, who was she kidding? She’d been totally wrong; this is impossible. She can’t walk in there. She’d taken three steps and then her stomach had tied itself in knots and she’d felt so sick at the thought of talking to Leia that she’d had to sit down, and she hasn’t moved since.

 _Fuck,_ she thinks to herself. _You’re hopeless._

Maybe if she’d allowed Ben to stay, he would have, even though she knew he’d resolved to stay away; when she’d become upset, he’d been there and maybe that would always happen now. Rey misses him, and the comfort she feels when he pulls her to him. The way he soothes her when she’s upset with his deep, gentle voice and his warmth, which is not just something physical but warmth that she feels go straight to her heart.

Rey pulls her knees up, puts her forehead to them and wraps her arms around her bent legs. Tears begin to prickle at the corners of her eyes. She blinks them back and sniffles as she listens to the sounds of the jungle around her, trying to calm herself and regain her focus. Regain a sense of purpose and remember why she’s here: for Ben.

The gentle breeze still tickles at the Wroshyrs. She can hear the soft brush of branches move and then a soft bray issues at the base of the gangway, and heavy footfalls begin to move slowly towards her. Instinctively, Rey’s stomach clenches but something in her heart reacts very differently as his huge hairy arm envelops her shoulders, and pulls her reluctant body in to his soft, warm belly. Rey bursts into tears as Chewie holds her close.

The breeze on the cool night air continues to shiver the leaves in the jungle. As the moons turn, and the planet does too, they make the stars seem to do the same above them. But all Rey sees is his thick, hairy hand over hers as she rubs at his fur with her finger and thumb and cries until there are no tears left. And after many minutes of this, Rey lifts her head and wipes her face.

“I just have to go in there, don’t I?” she whispers, as she looks up into his big, gentle eyes. “And not think too much about it. Just go.”

Chewie brays softly again and lays his head sympathetically over the crown of hers.

“Thank you,” she whispers, as she wraps her arms around his enormous torso before she stands, turns, and walks the rest of the distance up the gangway and inside the familiar interior of the freighter.

Rey hadn’t sensed as she’d sat on the gangway, she’d been too afraid. But now she does and she knows where to go. Her feet take her there as though in a dream. And when she reaches Leia, it still feels like that, or like she’s still out there with Chewie; enfolded in the warmth of his dense fur.

Something is with her. Maybe it’s someone, or maybe it’s just that she’s always felt safe here. Rey wonders now why she was so afraid of this, because she isn’t scared at all now; she’s glad.

“Sit down, Rey.”

General Organa sits at the hologame table, elbows on its surface, chin resting in her hands and looking vaguely at the set of holomonsters.

“So,” she says, heavily, still staring at the game board. “Did Han ever teach you how to play this thing?”

 _What?_ Rey thinks to herself; had she banged her head when she’d walked up the entrance ramp?

Her mouth goes slack and she feels herself frowning as Leia’s words sink in. The frown on Rey’s face deepens, her mind still slow from the emotions she’d felt outside, but also the shock of hearing Leia say Han’s name again, and then the unexpected subject of Dejarik. Rey gulps thickly before taking a deep breath.

“Chewie did,” Rey answers slowly, feeling a prickle at her eyes again as she remembers what he’s just done for her.

“Well, I guess if you’ve learned from the best,” Leia says, wearily, “Then, I’m in trouble. You’d better go first.”

Rey gives her a small smile but doesn’t move.

“Well, don’t just sit there, pick up your dice or I’ll go first.”

Still hesitant, Rey does what she’s told, moving her Savrip to face Leia’s Molator. Then she pauses, watching the Savrip beat its chest while the Molator hops evasively back and forth on its spindly feet. It reminds her of something, the way the holos posture like that. It’s just a game but Rey’s not here for those, and she thinks again of Ben. Looking up from the table, she meets Leia’s eyes. They’re knowing, and this gives her courage.

“Leia?”

“Yes, Rey?”

She takes a very deep breath.

“I didn’t come here to play Dejarik.”

Removing her elbows carefully from the table, Leia leans back against the padding of the curved lounge and folds her hands in her lap.

“I know,” she sighs. “I wish you had though, I could do with the practise.”

“He asked me to talk to you,” Rey whispers, swallowing the lump that’s rising in her throat and fighting back a fresh wave of tears.

How much should she say? Should she tell her the rest? Would Ben hate her if she did? Would he hate her if she didn’t?

“Just what’s in your heart, Rey,” Leia says, gently. “That’s all I need to hear.”

Rey swallows again, but the lump is still there and it’s grown so big she can’t seem to form words, even if she could think of the right ones to say now.

 _I can’t,_ Rey thinks hopelessly, as she tries again to blink them back but her tears overflow and her shoulders collapse.

She senses Leia shifting beside her and then soft, warm hands are taking her own and holding them firm.

“It’s okay,” Leia breathes, as she lets Rey cry. “You don’t need to say anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this fic xx
> 
> I'm back at work tomorrow after a break of a few weeks so need to move to slightly earlier posts, so chapters should now be published at a similar time to this (I think) for the next week or so until this work is finally finished! Thanks for sticking with it xx


	56. Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 14. Part 4 of 8. Ben.
> 
> Slight adjustment to the timeframe. Story is the same, no changes.

Sure, there are still blaster burns in the walls but this will probably do for the purpose he needs it now. Ben runs a palm over the two he’d first noticed when he’d stepped through the apartment’s door and then he drops his hand back to his side, rubbing the carbon residue between his forefinger and thumb briefly before turning to survey the state of the rest of the lounge.

‘Lounge’ is perhaps a redundant term for what he looks at now. Perhaps it was a lounge. He can see the remnants of the objects that could have indicated the typical features of such a benign thing as an area in which people might relax. For example, there’s a sofa here. It’s upturned, and blaster burns have fashioned it a new surface pattern but sure, this could have once been a lounge, perhaps before it looked like a conquered bulwark.

Ben contemplates changing the plan. There are certainly plenty of apartments available on Nar Shaddaa; it’s not like he’s short of options. And he knows he can acquire whatever he wants anyway; if he was alone, he wouldn’t even consider this shithole. But he’s not alone, and he knows Rey won’t like it if he uses his position to get her the best. She doesn’t want the best, but he feels she’ll like this; it’s a piece of junk that used to belong to his father, for fuck’s sake. She loves that combination.

It still smells pretty bad, though. He will need to get something for that. She won’t put up with that, will she? Maybe she will; she still sleeps under that odious blanket on Kashyyyk, that once he’d forced her to wash but that he knew would still be a filthy rag if he hadn’t intervened on that occasion.

Ben can’t stand it, though; that stench will bother him every time he walks through the door, he knows it and he can’t overlook it, not even for Rey. He’ll have to get something. Mysess blossoms? They’d work, she likes those and their scent reminds him of her. Perfect, like her.

 _I should write that down,_ he thinks, as he crosses the lounge and walks through to the bedroom.

An above average amount of dust coats everything in here, but apart from that and the smell this room is passable by Ben’s standards. Fewer burns are apparent on the walls, and there’s bedding; he could be staring at a bare, piss-soaked mattress. A thought flashes through him and he lifts the comforter.

 _Cleaning droid,_ he thinks, as he drops it like it’s hot and scrunches his nose before turning to face the built-in closet. _Start a list._

Ben avoids his own reflection in the cheap, mirrored glass of the panels as he slides one across on its rickety runners and his stomach clenches.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks, biting down out of habit on his lower lip.

His father’s clothes glare silently back at him, scripts written all over each one. He had a uniform Ben hasn’t forgotten – trousers, shirts, vests – and here they all hang. He reaches out a hand and with the pads of his fingers hovers above the surface of one of the vests and then sinks the fingers quickly to the faintly grimy surface of the treated hide, rubbing briefly and then drawing away as though burnt. He brings his hand slowly to his philtrum and inhales.

Ben remembers the way they’d smelled, those clothes, on the occasions he’d been close enough to breathe in the scents of his father; crisp and earthy, but faintly acrid. Smells that he can still detect now on the surface of his skin. His gaze wanders to the foot of the closet, lined with his father’s shoes. Ben reaches for the sliding door and pulls it closed so fast it comes off its runners.

 _Fuck,_ Ben thinks, as one edge lands awkwardly on the toe of his heavy boot and he grabs at its extremities, holding it briefly mid-air before setting it down and resting the top railing against the wall adjacent to the built-in robe. _Third thing._

Ben leaves the bedroom and walks to the en suite, which is standard. Nothing unexpected. Far less room than the restroom in his chambers, and no ‘fresher. But it will do. There’s no putrid visual or fetid smell and it doesn’t need cleaning; it’s just small. Again, he catches his reflection in the vanity, and this time he pauses.

He doesn’t stare long. Just long enough. His skin is pale. Grey hemispheres ghost the skin beneath his eyes and his scar is very apparent. He can feel the memory of Rey’s fingers tracing it as his eyes travel along the muddled line it draws down his face.

Ben doesn’t make a habit out of this; gazing at his own reflection. There are few mirrored surfaces in his chambers. There is nothing he does that requires them; the hygiene droid maintains his appearance and medical droids scan and treat him almost as frequently. But nothing like that exists here. Ben glares at himself in reverse, then softens the expression and notes the difference. What would it be like to wake up every day, stare at this, and maintain it?

 _Muddled,_ he thinks, as he looks at his appearance for a final time and then leaves the en suite, closing the door behind him.

Ben’s aware of the way his boots stick to the faux wooden board of the floor as he walks to the only space left that he hasn’t yet occupied. As he approaches the entrance, through the bond he senses Rey and pauses. She isn’t panicked, just upset and as he gives his feelings time he can also sense that someone is with her, but not his mother. Whoever it is has soothed her and the feeling lifts. Satisfied, he moves on.

The kitchenette is marked by a hurried exit. This fits the narrative, and Ben sighs. He hasn’t come here blind. He hasn’t come here because he’s stumbled randomly upon this place. Ben has come here because he knows it from stories he was told long ago. He’s never been here, and yet he has. In every room live ghosts from the past, mostly in the form of tall tales spoken to him by his father. But the closet was real, with the clothes and their smell. And the kitchen is, too.

Take-away containers litter the benches and something half-eaten but wholly rancid has been split amongst two long-discarded bowls; this is the source of the smell he’d walked in on.

 _Fourth thing on the list,_ Ben thinks, averting his eyes from the scum in the sink.

Something catches his eye. In the gloom and the mess, something on the narrow island bench that defines the edges of the kitchen and lounge glistens. Ben closes the distance between him and it in a flash, and as he brushes the papers and other detritus aside he senses it before he sees the very familiar monogram denoting its former owner.

Ben only hesitates briefly and there’s no panic now, distant enough as he is here from Kashyyyk. Reaching out with his hand, he takes the pen that once belonged to his mother and sits down at the table, rips himself a scrap on which to write and begins the list of the things he’s just planned in a practised calligraphic font.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this fic. I appreciate it so much xx


	57. Hemchar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 14. Part 5 of 8. Rey.
> 
> Slight adjustment to the timeframe. It made more sense as one night, not two. Story is the same, no changes.

Just beyond where she usually sleeps Rey sits below a Wroshyr and gazes up at the sky. Dappled clouds are shifting slowly across the slivered moons in the gentle breeze still circulating. As she watches them she thinks again of Ben and wonders if he’ll return tonight. She hasn’t sensed him since she sent him away, but that’s fair; he’s waiting for her. 

Rey drops her gaze back to the jungle and something catches her eye. Through the filtered moonlight, the silhouette of Rose crouches to her bed and then stands.

 _“Rose,”_ Rey hisses, leaning forward so her chest is almost parallel to the ground.

Rose turns her head quickly.

 _“There_ you are,” she hisses back, bending low and hurrying over. “I saw you walking, why aren’t you in bed?”

“There was something I had to do.”

“Or _someone?”_ she teases, nudging Rey with her elbow as she sits down, too.

”Rose...”

“Well, come _on,_ Rey… _Something you needed to do_ … In the middle of the night? If _that’s_ not a booty call, then what the fuck is?”

Rey snorts.

“This is _not_ the middle of the night, it’s still early,” she whispers.

“Not denying it though, are you?”

“That is _not_ what I was doing.”

Rose raises her eyebrows.

“It’s _not!”_

“Okay,” Rose concedes, raising her hands to indicate a truce.

Rey frowns at her. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t,” Rose winks. “Finn and I were doing this thing where we…”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Rey says, cutting her off quickly. “Don’t over-share.”

Rose snorts.

“You’re such a prude,” she teases again.

“I am _not_ a prude.”

“Yes, you are,” Rose says quietly, smiling and nudging her again.

“I’m _not,”_ Rey grumbles, frowning.

“So, how’s your Force-user, anyway?” Rose whispers, giving her another nudge.

“He’s okay.”

“Only okay?”

“He’s good, he just… lately he’s seemed... exhausted.”

 _“Oh,”_ Rose says knowingly, nudging Rey again. “Yeah, I’m _sure_ he has…”

“No, _not_ like that, Rose, seriously, you have a one-track mind…”

Rose snorts.

“Well, yeah, how else do you think I’m surviving all _this?”_ she whispers back, extending a hand to indicate the state of the jungle around them. “Find the fun where you can, Rey, because this is a shitty war.”

Rey frowns again, returning her gaze to the night sky.

“He kind of… _drinks_ a lot,” she confesses. “Is that bad?”

“Well, what do you mean by _a lot?”_ Rose asks. “Like, every day? Or just, some days?”

“No, not every day, I don’t think...”

“Well, that’s not really a _lot…”_

“It isn’t?”

“No,” Rose whispers, shaking her head. “Not at all, that just sounds like… occasionally. Nothing wrong with that. It’s a shitty war, remember?”

Rey frowns again.

“Do you know much about hangovers?”

“Apart from the fact they suck?”

“I think that’s why he’s exhausted,” Rey whispers. “We went on this… date. And he drank, like, nearly two bottles of Corellian wine and then on top of that he didn’t sleep for, like, nearly two days…”

“Hemchar root,” Rose says, breezily.

 _“What_ root?”

“Hem-char,” she repeats, slowly. “You know, comes in a pouch and you pour it in your mouth. I could get you some, but I’m not down for supply runs for another two days…”

“I need it tonight,” Rey says, quietly.

“You’re going out?”

“He said he’d take me somewhere.”

 _“Somewhere?”_ Rose whispers. “What, like _off-world?”_

“Yes,” Rey whispers cautiously back.

“Where?”

Rey shifts around to face her, crossing her legs beneath.

 _“If_ I tell you,” she warns, as Rose begins to grin, “You have to _swear_ that you will not tell even _one_ soul, Rose, okay?”

“Have I ever not kept one of your secrets?”

“Well, no,” she admits. “But I’m serious, Rose, you cannot tell a single solitary soul, or…”

Rose puts a solemn hand to her sister’s necklace.

“I swear to the Maker, Rey. I won’t tell.”

“Nar Shaddaa.”

 _“What?!”_ she exclaims, and they both turn quickly as the sound echoes through the near-silent jungle.

Rose claps a hand to her mouth and then quickly removes it.

 _“Why the fuck is he taking you there?”_ she hisses.

“What’s wrong with it?”

 _“Rey,”_ she hisses again, reaching out both hands and gripping both of Rey’s, her eyes wide.

Gone is the cheeky grin of earlier; Rose seems afraid.

“There’s _nothing_ but trouble there, it’s full of smugglers and bounty hunters, and don’t even get me started on the First Order presence on that piece of...”

 _“First Order presence?_ ” she repeats, stomach clenching. “What do you mean?”

Rose sighs. “It’s _sneaky,_ Rey.”

_“Sneaky?”_

Rose nods. “They won’t let you into the spaceport without retinal _and_ body scans, so everybody tries to get in elsewhere. But they’re ready for that, and they hunt you. Finn told me.”

For several moments Rey gazes anxiously at Rose. Then she shifts again on the ground, leans back against the trunk of the tree and gazes up at the sky again. The clouds are thinning. One of the moons is completely visible now.

“I think they’re waxing,” Rey says, vaguely.

Rose looks up, too, and for several minutes they both sit in silence until Rose speaks again.

“You still have enough herbs?”

“To chew?” Rey whispers, still looking at the moon.

“Yeah,” Rose whispers, back.

“Yes,” she says.

Rey senses Ben then, and her heart jumps to her mouth.

“I’m getting tired,” she says, quietly.

“Yeah,” Rose murmurs, sleepily. “Me too.”

Rey shifts her hands and begins to stand but Rose grips her wrist and halts her.

“Rey?”

“Yeah?”

“Just be careful, okay?”

Rey gives her a small smile, turns and walks back to her bed.

For a long time, Rey just lies there on her back beneath her blanket, waiting first for Rose to go back to bed, then for her to fall asleep, and then to feel Ben through the bond again. Her eyes are growing heavy and she keeps nodding off, then catching herself with a start. How long has she been in bed for now? She reaches out, sensing that the night is half over.

Rey rolls to her side and closes her eyes.

 _Ben?_ she thinks through the bond.

_What took you so long?_

“Rose was here,” she whispers, reaching a hand to his face as he leans in from above and presses his lips to hers before pulling away just a fraction.

Their eyes meet and she can feel him sensing as he stares intensely at her, and then the look softens and he brings his lips to hers again.

_Are you ready to go?_

_Nearly,_  Rey thinks, and her tongue begins to taste him as Ben's mouth kneads at hers softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for clicking on this work over 10,000 times. That's crazy xx


	58. Welcome To Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 14. Part 6 of 8. Ben.

As pleasurable as it is to lie here above her, and feel her tongue lick beneath his own, the longer Ben stays on Kashyyyk the more his stomach churns. Even though he knows this is the remedy for that – escaping into Rey – and has been for the past two weeks, he doesn’t want to be here for longer than he needs to, and he never really has. He pulls his mouth away.

Her eyes are hooded and the soft blush spreading across her face in the moonlight pulls at his heart again, as well as a place much lower down, but he feels the nerves regardless of that; he’s already been here too long.

“I’m going,” he breathes. “Find me.”

“Ben,  _wait…”_

He senses her frown but shuts his eyes quickly before he can see it; the sight of her doing that will only make him stay longer, he knows it. She can frown all she likes once she’s in the apartment, and he certainly won’t stop her there, but that’s enough of this shit here; the thought of his mother is freaking him out; he needs to leave. Ben vanishes.

As he returns to the apartment, the sounds of droids return to his ears as they continue to move through, cleaning; he was right to start them in the bedroom. The scent of the Mysess he’d bought earlier has permeated the space and now it combines with the neutral odor of sonic air; a massive improvement on earlier.

Satisfied, Ben props himself up on an elbow and stares through the slatted blinds. Night has fallen and the gloomy concrete of the vertical city beyond the bedroom window – the only one in the apartment – has been replaced by a jungle of neon light.

Ben stares for some time at the way the gaudy colors of signage outside bleed in through the gaps and seep across the walls, irregularly timed and sometimes layering to temporarily make new hues. Time passes, marked by the movement of the lights as he continues to watch them, and Ben begins to grow nervous.

Perhaps, for some reason, something has happened and she can’t reach out? He hopes she hasn’t changed her mind. Briefly he considers reaching out again for her but then he senses through the bond that she’s close. She hasn’t changed her mind, but she’s definitely apprehensive.

 _Fair enough,_ he thinks to himself.

 _Where are you?_  she thinks to Ben.

_Nar Shaddaa. I told you, remember?_

_No, I mean, where? _ Rey thinks back, and he senses her nerves again.

Ben reclines further on the bed, lays his head down on the freshly sanitized pillow and rolls his body in to face her image.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, sensing.  

She frowns again.

“I promise that nothing here will hurt you,” he breathes, coaxing.

Through the bond, Ben reaches out a hand to one of hers. As time passes, and more of her image begins to emerge beside him, slowly he starts to feel her fingers. When he shifts his own down the stems of hers, he can feel her relax, and she begins to return the soft strokes until she closes her whole palm over his hand.

“I promise,” he repeats, as he slides his hand along her forearm and feels her start to trust him.

When Rey closes her eyes, Ben runs the hand along the gauze that wraps her triceps, and when her eyes re-open he leans in to kiss her gently.

“How do you feel?” he whispers, with lips still pressed lightly to hers, brushing against her as he speaks the words softly.

“Where am I?”

Ben takes a deep breath.

“We’re in an apartment,” he starts, as he draws himself back and watches Rey’s eyes widen, searching rapidly above and around them both as they lie on the double bed.

“You’ve been here before?” she asks, eyes still darting and then settling on his.

“No,” Ben says. “Not before tonight.”

“What’s with the colours?”

“It’s just the city outside,” he says, watching the way the faintly pink and orange hues of its light pollution filter a sequence of vertical lines across parts of her body, sometimes traveling across the walls as speeders move along the street below.

“What can I hear?”

“Cleaning droids,” he answers. “This thing was a fucking wreck until about three standard hours ago. They’re nearly done, though.”

"What time is it?"

"Early night," he murmurs. "A few standard hours behind Kashyyyk."

Rey frowns, and Ben can’t help but lean in and nuzzle at her neck, inhaling her scent and pressing his lips to the skin just behind her ear.

“You don’t like it,” he breathes, sensing again.

“It’s not that,” she answers.

“It is, I can feel it,” he whispers, still brushing softly at the skin of her neck and inhaling the scents he loves about her.

“Rose told me about this system,” she murmurs.

 _Oh, great,_  he thinks to himself.  _Fucking marvellous._

Ben sighs, but stays silent, still nuzzling beneath her hair.

“The First Order is here,” she says, softly.

“The First Order is everywhere, Rey.”

“So why would you bring me here, when you know that?”

“I told you already,” he mumbles. “You’re safe.”

“Ben, I don’t even have a Makerfucking  _blaster…”_

“You don’t need one,” he murmurs. “You have me.”

“I don’t want to be protected, Ben, I can take care of myself.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

“Of course I fucking do, are you kidding me?” he says, growing frustrated and pulling his face from her hair.

“What the fuck is even going to happen when we step outside that door?”

“What?”

She sighs, and his stomach clenches. This isn’t good. This isn’t what he planned.

“No one is going to let you and I walk down a street unnoticed, and least of all in a place like this.  _No one,_  Ben. You  _know_  it.”

Ben takes a very deep breath. He expected this.

“It’s not you and I,” he says.

_“What?”_

“It’s not  _you and I,”_ he repeats.

“What the fuck are you talking about, of course it’s you and I…”

“I’m the Supreme Leader,” he murmurs, slipping his mouth below her jawline again, “And you’re a prisoner of war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this fic, very much appreciated xx


	59. Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 14. Part 7 of 8. Rey.

“This is a kink,” she says. “Right?”

“What?”

Rey snuggles her nose to Ben’s neck and bites at him gently as she feels his teeth begin to nibble at her lobe. She shivers and presses her thigh more firmly to the growing bulge below his trousers.

 _“You,_ Leader Ren,” she whispers into his ear, “And _me,_ your Rebel scum _prisoner.”_

She watches him lift his head, look at her quizzically and then dive below her hair again as he slips one hand below her upper garments, and works their fabrics roughly above her breasts.

“No,” she hears him breathe, as he moves the hand down to her waist and begins to unfasten her trousers. “But holy shit, it can be if you want, I brought cuffs.”

What did he mean by ‘no’? Is she missing something? Rose would probably get it… Rey pretends to understand.

“Wow,” she says theatrically, feeling his mouth close around her nipple as his hand works its way between her open waistband. “We’ve never tried _that_ before.”

 _It’ll be good practise,_ she hears him think back, as he bites down gently at her nipple and tugs.

Rey feels a familiar ache begin between her thighs as when he releases her Ben brings both hands to her lower garments and pulls them down roughly below her hips. She sighs and shifts as he begins to kiss along her inner thighs, before settling his hands on the outsides of her now bare hips. Then his mouth is at her clit and she feels his tongue start to lick at her lightly. She arches her back and wriggles.

“Practise for what?” she sighs, smiling at the ceiling as one of her hands finds the back of Ben’s head and begins to tug lightly at the ends of his hair, while the other reaches for her own nipple.

 _For when we do it for real,_ he thinks, mouth still full of her cunt. _For when I actually take you out._

“Huh?”

_You know, to the diner._

_“What?”_

It’s difficult to follow the progression of this discussion, especially when she feels his fingers slide inside her and his lips suck her clit up and inside his mouth, as every so often he does that, too, and then releases her before doing it again. It’s _very_ distracting, and it feels _very_ good.

And Rey wants, _very_ much, to relax her body into it and let him start to make her come. But there is something gnawing that is not his gentle mouth, and it’s troubling in a way that isn’t good. Her stomach churns.

“Ben, what the fuck…?”

 _Go with it,_ he thinks.

 _Holy shit,_ she thinks. _He’s fucking serious._

She works her hands to his face and shoves him out from between her thighs. He sits back on his knees compliantly and looks down at her as she watches him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand and frown slightly.

 _“What?”_ he says, sounding mildly dazed.

“I am _not_  agreeing to this…”

“Agreeing to _what?”_

“Are you fucking _serious?”_ she asks, gob smacked.

“Yes,” he says earnestly, still frowning down at her.

She sighs.

“Ben, _fuck,”_ she says, exasperated. “Are you _seriously_ suggesting that I’m your _prisoner?”_

“That’s what I said _.”_

 _“Fuck off,_ Ben, _seriously?”_

“Yeah. What the fuck did you think I meant?”

“Oh, my fucking stars,” she breathes. “You seriously think I would walk out of here cuffed? With you? And into a diner?”

“Yeah.”

“You are fucking  _delusional,”_  she says, horrified. “I am _not_ fucking doing that.”

For several moments she’s silent, and then she feels him tense and she braces.

 _“Then go back to Kashyyyk,”_  he hisses, and Rey watches his eyes begin to brim.

 _“Fucking_ hell, Ben, _please_ don’t do that…”

He says nothing, just continues to stare at her.

 _“Ben…,”_ she pleads, moving her hands to his upper thighs as he sits astride her.

Rey begins to stroke him, trailing her fingers up his lower abdomen and then down and along his thighs again as she breathes deeply in an effort to calm herself, too. After some time, she feels them both returning to a relatively normal blood pressure, and senses it might be time for her to speak again.

“So,” she says quietly, and after several more minutes have passed. “What wrecked it?”

“What?” he whispers.

 _“This_  place,” she says, gently. “Earlier, you said it was wrecked. Why? What happened?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he murmurs, as slowly he moves his hands back to her bare torso and lays his body down along hers again.

“Please tell me now, Ben,” she says, quietly.

“Fine,” he sighs, as he rolls off her and lies on his side.

Rey turns in to face him.

“This was my father’s. Happy? I would have told you eventually.”

_“What?”_

“It was a long time ago, before they had me,” he says, shakily, as she lets him reach a hand and begin to stroke her still bare upper torso. “And before he met my mother. He used to stay here. That’s how I know about it. He used to… talk about it, sometimes. Tell me about how it was still here.”

“Fuck off,” she whispers, in disbelief. “He did  _not.”_

“He did,” Ben murmurs. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Well, what the fuck  _happened?”_  she repeats.

“What?”

“You still haven’t said, Ben, for fuck’s sake.”

“The usual shit,” he sighs. “Bounty hunters, chasing my father.”

Something clicks then in Rey. Fragments begin to assemble themselves and she feels Ben sense her sudden understanding as his gaze on her intensifies.

“They’re why you’re afraid,” she hears him whisper slowly. “The bounty hunters, and the First Order.”

“And the  _Hutts,”_  she whispers back.

“We don’t have to stay here,” he says softly, as he pulls her gently to him and brings his face cautiously closer.

“It’s not  _here_ , it’s _…”_

“You’re afraid to go out.”

“I’m not fucking  _afraid,_  Ben, I just wish I had a  _weapon._  I’d feel a lot better if I had  _something_ with which to defend  _myself_  from all the _…”_

“I can get you a blaster.”

 _I’d rather a saber,_ she thinks to herself, but Ben answers.

_Then why in the fuck don’t you fix it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued reads, kudos and comments. Much appreciated xx


	60. Spit It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 14. Part 8 of 8. Ben.

Ben props himself up on an elbow, sensing. He gazes down at Rey as she glares back at him. Clearly, he’s hit a raw nerve, but _why_ is it raw? Is this somehow _his_ fault? He does remember the moment that the lightsaber had split, and then waking up to find her gone.

 _Yes,_ he hears her think. _It’s your fucking fault, Ben._

“How?” he asks, quietly.

Rey sighs.

“Seriously?” she asks. “You don’t even _know?”_

“Seriously,” he replies in earnest, and hoping like fuck she can at least sense that.

For several moments Rey just looks at him. What the fuck is with _that?_ Should he do something? Should he say something else, like _sorry?_ He’s still not even sure what he’s meant to be sorry for, but if it will help, then maybe…

“You broke my fucking lightsaber, Ben.”

No, he didn’t, they _both_ did.

“What?”

“You fucking _heard_ me, Ben.”

“I didn’t break it.”

“Yes, you did.”

Ben sighs. This is ridiculous.

“Okay, I broke it,” he says, “But we were both reaching for it, so whose fault was that?”

“Yours.”

“You really believe that?”

“Yes.”

 _“Fine,”_ he says. “Fine.”

“You don’t mean that…”

 _“Rey,”_ he breathes, leaning in to her again. _“Please,_ what do you _want?_ What do you want from me now?”

“What?”

“I don’t want to fucking _argue,_ I just want to know what you want me to _say…”_

“I _am_ fixing it,” Rey murmurs. “Rose is helping me.”

“Okay.”

Ben leans back and looks down at her again as she lies on the freshly laundered bed, still with her garments pulled up above her chest and trousers below her hips. Slowly he begins to stroke the skin at her furthest flank, while he brings his mouth to hers and kisses her once. Then he draws away slightly.

“Rey?” he whispers, as their eyes meet.

“Yes?” she says, quietly.

“If I needed… _you,”_ he starts cautiously, and with eyes still on hers, “Would you _come?”_

“You don’t mean come as in, like…?”

“No,” he says, seriously. “I mean, like, come _to me…”_

“What?” she says, frowning. “Like… _now?_ Like, how I’ve come to you here _now…?_ ”

“No, not like that,” he says, sighing and dropping his eyes to her mouth. “Like…”

“Ben?”

“What?” he says, frustrated as the right words continue to allude him _._

“Are you trying to ask me for _help?”_

“Yes,” he mumbles, lifting his gaze to her eyes again, and feeling relief flood through him when he realizes that she actually fucking understands.

“Would I _help_ you?” she asks.

“Yes,” he breathes. “Would you?”

“Well, of course I fucking would, you fucking idiot,” she murmurs, lifting her chin and brushing her lips across his. “I already _have…”_

“I mean _now_ though, that, you know, we’re doing _this…”_

“It’s still _yes,_ Ben,” she says, frowning. “And I told you, I already _have._ That time when you connected on Kashyyyk, remember? And you were really messed up, and I…”

“No,” he interrupts, “I mean, if something were really to _happen_ to me, like, something… _bad…”_

“What?”

“I don’t know…”

 _“Yes, you do,”_ she breathes. “Just fucking _say_ it, Ben…”

“Like, a mutiny.”

_“What?”_

“Or, like, if anyone was to ever _see_ us together, and then, you know…”

“Know _what,_ Ben?” she says. “Spit it out.”

“Just… if I fucking _needed_ you…”

“You’re worried about it, too. Aren’t you?”

“What?”

“Leaving, going out,” she says. “You’re just as worried about being seen here, on this moon, with me, as I am about being seen here with you. Admit it, Ben. You’re just as nervous. Say it.”

“No, I’m not, I don’t mean here.”

“But it could happen here.”

“No, it couldn’t,” he says, shaking his head. “And it won’t. No one will mess with us here, I’m the Supreme Leader…”

“They _might,”_ she breathes. “And it _does_ make you nervous, and don’t deny it, Ben, because I can _feel_ it in you...”

He drops his mouth to hers and opens it around her, driving his tongue between her lips and tasting beneath her tongue. Her thigh presses hard between his own and he moans into her mouth, wishing for nothing more than to drop this conversation entirely and just let his body sink into hers.

 _I’m not going anywhere without a blaster, Ben, and I’m not going anywhere cuffed,_ he hears her think as he continues to work his mouth over hers while his hand makes its way to her inner thighs again.

 _Can’t you just answer the question?_  he thinks back, as she moves her hands to her outer thighs and wriggles her garments further down, below her knees

 _I already have,_  he hears her think, as he sinks two fingers into her slick cunt and begins to stroke her.

_No, you haven’t, you’ve just been fucking telling me off for the past... I don’t even know how long._

He shifts the pads of his fingers to her entrance and rubs, as his other hand tugs at her nipple. Then his lips move away from her mouth and to her neck and he begins to lick there softly.

“Please?” he murmurs.

“You’re trying to ask me,” she sighs, “If I’ll fight for you. Right?”

Ben’s heart skips.

 _Holy fucking shit,_ he thinks to himself. _Finally._

“Would you do that?” he murmurs, as he feels her thrust her hips up at his hand when her muscles start to pulse beneath his fingers.

“Of course I would,” she exhales, her voice ragged as she starts to come.

“You still have no saber,” he says, pulling his mouth away from her neck so he can watch her. “Look at me.”

“I told you already,” she pants, frowning but meeting his gaze as her climax unfolds. “That’s changing.”

Ben watches her tip her head back as, overwhelmed, she halts the conversation briefly and then her eyes find his once more.

“I’ve disassembled it,” Rey moans. “There’s just two more things I need to discuss with Rose about the tech.”

“You’re so fucking hot,” he breathes, as he lowers his mouth and brushes his lips against hers roughly. “You know… I didn’t even want to fight you? That day?”

“What?” she pants.

“On the Supremacy,” he breathes, as he brings a hand to his trousers and unfastens them.

“After we’d killed the guards?” she murmurs.

“Yeah,” he says flippantly, removing his hard cock.

“Ben, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“When you reached for that saber I could have called mine, but I didn’t want to,” he says in a rush, and just before he slides himself into her wet cunt and hears her sigh as Ben does the same.

“Oh my fucking stars…,” she breathes.

“I know,” he groans, as he starts a rhythm inside her. “Fuck, I love you so much, Rey…”

“Ben,” she breathes, as he watches her tilt her head back and then return her gaze to his as her hands find his face and bring it to hers, forcing him to look at her. “Why the fuck didn’t you just say that?”

“Say what?” he pants.

“That…” she struggles, with tears in her eyes. “That... you wanted that?”

“I don’t know,” he pants, as he feels himself starting to verge. “I don’t fucking know, Rey.”

As he comes, he looks deep into her eyes. She’s frowning, and still teary, and he knows there’s more she wants to say but he can’t hear it now. All he can hear is her breathing, still ragged - he hopes - from the pleasure he's given, and not because she's sad.

“Please don’t be mad,” he breathes, as his cock pulses and he holds it still and deep within her, feeling the throbbing start and then spread throughout his whole body.

When he collapses above her, her teeth graze his neck.

"How about I just don't _tell_ you about it?" she whispers.

“Okay, then,” Ben murmurs, as he feels sleep calling. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for giving this fic 300 kudos xx


	61. Plan B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 15. Part 1 of 1. Rey.

Rey lies on her belly. Propped on her elbows and with ankles crossed in the air, the blanket thrown loosely across her lower back is for emotional comfort only; Kashyyyk is hot and humid tonight.

Dressed just in underclothes, she stares sadly at the bottom of the small package she holds in her hands.

 _What’s wrong?_ she hears Ben think through the bond.

She tilts the nearly empty box in the direction of his voice and turns her face to look down at him as he emerges bare-chested on the scrunched pillow beside her.

 _Oh,_ he thinks back, frowning.

“I was going to finish these tonight,” Rey whispers, looking mournfully back again at the sticky chocolate that puddles the base of the box. “I had one left, but it’s melted.”

“Here,” he murmurs, as the bond strengthens and he reaches out a hand to take the shallow container from hers.

Ben dips a forefinger inside and then brings it to Rey’s mouth. She sucks the chocolate from him and slowly a smile returns to her face. He does it again, collecting the very last of it. She laps at him this time, licking with the tip of her tongue up his long finger slowly before closing her lips at its base. Then she stares into his dark eyes as she runs her closed mouth along his whole digit, sucking the last of the sticky sweetness away.

“I’ll get you some more,” he whispers, as he feeds her the berry center.

“They were _so_ delicious,” she breathes after swallowing, and just before lowering her mouth to kiss him deeply.

 _How was your day?_ she hears him think, while his tongue works its way gently around the inside of her mouth.

 _I got you something,_ she thinks back, but only after several more moments of indulging in the feel of his tongue.

She’d almost forgotten. Somehow Rose had managed to get a hold of some today, how Rey knew not, but when she’d brought it by earlier this evening Rey had gratefully accepted them and asked no questions.

Leaning over, she reaches now for the haversack she’s been keeping for the past two weeks by her pillow, and rummages briefly inside.

“For you,” she whispers to Ben.

He rolls his eyes at the sight of the two small pouches of hemchar that she holds out to him in her hand.

“Hey,” she mumbles, frowning. “They weren’t easy to get…”

“Sorry,” he breathes, reaching up to kiss her mouth again before receiving her gift and tucking the sachets into the band of his trousers.

“That’s _not_ how to thank someone,” Rey mumbles again. “I could take them back, you know, if you don’t appreciate them.”

“I do appreciate them,” he murmurs, reaching a hand to the back of her head and resting it there gently in what she assumes is an effort to soothe her. “Please don’t take them back, I just…”

“What?”

She hears him sigh.

“I’m not an alcoholic.”

 _Shit,_ she thinks, frowning.

“What makes you think I think _that?”_ she asks, as innocently as possible.

“Well, Rey, you’ve just handed me a fucking hangover remedy. Two, actually…”

“Only because I thought…”

“Only because you thought I needed one. Or _two,_ as the case may be...”

“No,” she says, still feeling guilty as she remembers the conversation she’d had with Rose last night. “I didn’t mean it like that…”

“How did you mean it, then?”

“Well, we’re going out to drink again, aren’t we?” she says, thinking quickly and leaning over him to bring herself closer to where he lies.

“Yeah,” Ben says, quietly, his fingers running their way through the length of her hair. “If we ever get there…”

“We will,” she murmurs, lowering her mouth to Ben’s briefly and kissing him once, as with relief she senses him move on.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually _agreeing_ now to do what I want you to do…”

“Alright, I won’t,” she interrupts, brushing her lips to his. “I’ve got a better idea.”

“Why do you hate _my_ idea so much?” he mumbles, frowning again. “It would be _hot_ to lead you round the streets of the Smuggler’s Moon in cuffs…”

“Maybe for _you…”_ she breathes, still nuzzling him.

 _“Definitely_ for me,” he says with a smile, as she feels him work a thigh between hers and begin to rub slowly. “Admit it though, you _want_ me to cuff you.”

“Ben…”

 _“And,”_ Ben whispers, as he starts to work a hand below the fabric of her lower undergarment, “You _want_ to call me _Kylo_ in a public place.”

Rey sighs and shakes her head, although she can’t help the small smile that creeps across her face.

“Ben, we should go…”

She feels him pause, sensing.

“Okay,” he agrees. “But that doesn’t mean this is over. Is that understood?”

“Yes, _Kylo,”_ she whispers, nuzzling just below his jaw as he disappears and she closes her eyes.

It’s different, Force-connecting with Ben on Nar Shaddaa. Rey’s not sure of exactly why, but she senses it has something to do with habit. She’d grown so used to sensing for his chambers that in the end she’d stopped needing to think about it – she could find him there using instinct alone – but, now, she has to concentrate again. She has to slow down and reach out and really search for the feeling of him, or the sound of his thoughts. And, as though he knows this, she hears him now and is grateful.

_So, what’s your idea?_

_What?_ she thinks back, still immersed in the effort of connecting.

“You said you had a Plan B,” he says softly, as she feels his hand reach for hers and run its way down her arm, coaxing her to him just as he’d done last night. “Because you won’t let me cuff you.”

“I only _said,”_ Rey clarifies, as she opens her eyes and sees the familiar gaudy hues softly coloring the inside of the apartment’s bedroom, as the night lights filter in from the city beyond the slatted window, “I object to being cuffed _outside.”_

“You know I won’t let you forget that,” Ben murmurs, smiling.

“I’m counting on it,” she says. “Get me a dancer outfit.”

“Get you a _what?”_

“Get me a dancer outfit,” she repeats. “You know, maybe like a two-piece undergarment in some color you like, like _red._ And, like, one of those black, wrap-around belt things dancers wear…”

 _“Sensua bindings?”_ Ben asks, as she watches his mouth grow slacker by the second.

“Yeah, them,” Rey says, and then frowns. “Hang on, how do _you_ know what they’re called?”

“Nevermind.”

“I _mind,_ Ben,” she says firmly. _“Tell_ me.”

“I just _know_ , okay?” he answers, smiling _._ “I can get it. Easy.”

Rey looks at him with narrowed eyes for several more moments before relaxing.

“Okay, then,” she says.

“So, just let me get this straight, though,” Ben says, slowly. “You would actually walk out of here with me in _that_ , and that only? _Underwear_ and a glorified _belt?”_

“Beats the hell out of being cuffed,” she says, firmly.

“But you wanted a blaster, too, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, where in the fuck are you going to put _that?_ I mean, little will be left to the imagination, Rey. Not that I’m complaining, I’m just saying…”

“If anyone asks, it’s your kink,” she says. “You like your slave girls to carry decommissioned blasters, you think it’s hot.”

 _“Decommissioned blasters?_ What in the fuck is a _decommissioned blaster?_ Did you just make that up?”

“Yeah. Why, what’s wrong with it? Why wouldn’t there be decommissioned blasters?”

Ben snorts.

“I’ll get one that looks old, how’s that?” he says. "Might be slightly more convincing... What shoes do you want?”

“High-heeled combat boots,” she says, without missing a beat.

“Wow, that’s specific,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Rey replies, nodding. “Or if you can’t get them, _hardweaves.”_

 _“Hardweave_ boots…?” he says, frowning. “What?”

“They’re awesome,” she says, excitedly. “I saw this woman wearing them on Jakku once, she definitely wasn’t _from_ Jakku…”

“Anything else?”

Rey chews her lower lip for several moments, thinking.

“Makeup? Or no makeup?”

“Up to you,” Ben says. “This is _your_ Plan B, not mine.”

“Thoadeye-style makeup!” she cries. “You know that thing they do with their eyes, with the swooshes and the dots..? In red and black. You think?”

“Yeah,” he says slowly, nodding. “That’d be hot... I’ll try to get red boots then… You want jewels or, like, a headpiece or something?”

“Sure,” she says, happily. “That’d be fun. And a collar.”

“Holy fuck,” he laughs. “You love this shit.”

 _“Sweetheart,”_ she purrs, pressing her finger to the centre of his chest. “The collar’s for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re reading this, thanks for sticking with this fic so long. We are nearing the end, I drafted it today! xx


	62. Retail Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 16. Part 1 of 2. Ben.

With both jaw and shoulders dropped, Ben strides with an air of abandon he hasn’t felt in a long time and wonders why that is as he lifts his gaze from the street below his feet to side-eye various storefronts now and again.

Perhaps it’s because he has a clear purpose, or – more accurately – one that’s been helped along by Rey; he’s doing this for her. It’s not for his parents. It’s not for the First Order. It’s not even really for himself. There are certainly self-interests he could list, but they’re not why he’s out here now.

And with that thought in his head Ben gives the shitty blocks of Nar Shaddaa a slightly lop-sided smile as he continues to lope on through them, at ease.

He’s growing more familiar with the quarter in which the apartment is located. Sensing has certainly helped with that but wandering has, too. The vendors closest to the residential blocks spruik second-hand electronics. If Ben hazards a guess, that’s why his father chose to reside here; for the close proximity to stolen parts.

As the density of the blocks beyond increases, along with the foot and speeder traffic, the tech stores give way to general amenities and then eateries. Ben’s already located the Meltdown – he’d found that yesterday when he’d ventured out looking for Mysess blossoms and cleaning droids – but what he really needs now is further afield. He continues to walk with long, slow and self-assured strides through the urban sprawl of the vertical city on a search for the sex district.

He knows there must be thousands of them across the ecumenopolis; if he senses, he could likely locate the one in this ward fairly quickly. But something holds him back from doing that. If he takes out the guesswork, and feels for a direct route, will that disappoint him? It’s surprising to Ben that the answer feels like a resounding yes.

As he rounds another shabby corner, his cape brushes silently against the damp wall of a holo-booth and this strange impulse to move without much of a plan continues to amuse him. It’s nice just to walk with nothing but a very vague sense of why.

He’d made two plans before he’d left his chambers, but they’d both been pretty loose and Rey had already torn one of them to shreds two nights ago when she’d realized it had also been pretty half-baked. Maybe he was actually awful at planning, and he thinks back to the equally vague one he’d made over two weeks ago now, to re-connect with her after Crait.

 _But that one had turned out okay,_ he thinks to himself, as he eyeballs several stormtroopers patrolling a cordoned-off section of rubble, and sighs when they stand to attention as he passes. _Maybe this last one will, too._

Rey’s good at planning, but he sensed she did little of it these days on Kashyyyk. Does she regret that? Is that why she’s always so quick to re-hash his ideas? It seems to be something she enjoys. Ben has grown to hate the minutia of planning. Perhaps that’s why he feels so good now as he turns yet another unfamiliar corner and looks up, no longer even sure of where he is but liking the view of something new.

He returns his gaze to his heavy boots and notices now that the concrete beneath them has become marked by the deep grey of water-soak. Perhaps the constant pollution in the moon’s atmosphere means rain is a permanent fixture of its climate, although no rain falls now and it reminds him for some reason of the apartment’s en suite; there’s no ‘fresher there, only a sonic.

 _I could change that,_ he thinks, as he tunes in to the sounds of water through downpipes and notices the way it complements the smooth hum of speeders as they move stealthily by him.

Plumes of steam waft the smells of cooking and food from the underground eateries, and this begins to make Ben hungry; it’s well past the early hour at which he normally eats his last meal for the day, and he can’t help but think again of the Meltdown, and Rey. He’s several hours behind her here, and he wonders what she’s eating; she’d be doing that about now on Kashyyyk.

With Rey on his mind, his eyes sharpen as Ben begins to notice another change in the streetscape. Storefronts have shifted again and now lurid colors and the svelte and jutted forms of holo-mannequins replace the charcoal-edged ones of singed, non-sentient body parts hanging in the grimy windows of food outlets. Something catches the corner of his eye and he turns.

A sheath of red velveteen hangs loosely from the stylized form of a human holo in the window of a storefront. As it moves fluidly, the cloak hugging the hips of the glitchy female-gendered visual that flaunts it, the textures of the garment remind Ben of very specific parts of Rey. Mesmerized, he stands in front of the window display for several minutes, and then bullies his feet at last through the door.

For some time, now, it’s been boring to Ben; how he’s treated. And it doesn’t really make sense if he thinks about it for any length of time, so he’s tended not to, in the past, when this thought has worked its way to the surface of his mind. He’s tended to just let it go, accept the treatment and continue to expect it. But this afternoon, here, he’s had enough. When they all bow before him as he strides to the counter he grows bored of growing bored.

“For fuck’s sake, stop it,” he orders, stiffly. “At ease.”

The service droids remain bowed.

“I said,” he repeats, an anxious edge creeping into his tone, _“Stop.”_

Impulse grips him and instinctively his hand tenses and readies as he senses, but then the droid behind the counter lifts its head, although it’s visual receptors remain averted. Ben relaxes, relieved.

“Sir,” it warbles.

“I’d like to purchase something,” Ben says, awkwardly.

“Sir?”

“The red cloak. On the holo-dummy in the window.”

“Yes, sir.”

The droid lowers its head again and moves to the front of the store. Returning quickly to the counter, it proceeds to fold and then wrap the red velveteen cloak before nervously pushing the item toward Ben.

“Have it sent,” Ben says, quietly.

“Yes, sir,” the droid responds, lowering its head again and then reaching for a holopad.

“How much?” Ben asks, as he enters delivery data and then extracts a sheaf of currency from somewhere inside his cape.

“Sir,” it warbles again. “There’s no need for you to pay.”

Impulse tugs again at Ben but he fights it. Instead, he thumbs through the wad of cash and leaves what he expects is far too much for just a cheap cut of velveteen; it’s not even real velvet, for Maker’s sake. Then he turns on his heel and is gone before the droid can object.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the continued reads, kudos and comments on this fic. It's wonderful to hear when it's enjoyed or somehow connects as it's definitely a labor of love xx


	63. Even Worse Than Porg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 16. Part 2 of 2. Rey.
> 
> It’s ready and waiting so why not have it a little early xx

_I fucking hate flarion,_ Rey thinks, as she sits alone beneath a Shi-shok several hundred yards from the Falcon and continues to pick the stringy meat from between her teeth with a crude wooden toothpick. _It’s even worse than porg._

 _Sucks to be you, then,_ she hears him think through the bond. “You should try _this.”_

Rey turns her head sharply in the direction of Ben’s characteristically deep voice. She grimaces when the pick lodges between her already tender gums as she tries to work from between her teeth another piece of gristly cartilage left over from the cooked bird she’d been served earlier for dinner.

“Fuck you, Ben,” she mumbles, watching him scoffing something that looks decidedly less sharp and stringy than what she’s just had to endure, and what only Chewie could ever call food. “What is that, anyway?”

She watches him swallow the last of it and then smack his lips together gratuitously.

“You’ll just have to find out,” he breathes with an air of satisfaction, as she watches him solidify on the ground beside her, and lie back with a hand at his stomach, rubbing it in a gesture of unmasked happiness. “That was fucking _amazing.”_

Rey looks nervously about them, the bits of flarion still caught between her teeth momentarily forgotten.

 _“Fuck,_ Ben, _what’s gotten into you?”_

“Dianoga pie,” he murmurs, closing his eyes. “It’s great, you have to try it.”

Rey huffs, still searching anxiously for wandering Rebel eyes before screwing up her nose; she certainly hasn’t forgotten the time they’d nearly been caught out by Finn because Ben couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut.

 _“Dianoga?”_ she utters below her breath, disgusted. “Oh, my stars, Ben, that is fucking _revolting._ How could you possibly eat _dianoga,_ of all things?”

“What do you mean?” he says, cracking open an eye and looking up at her quizzically. “It’s fucking delicious…”

Rey gives him yet another revolted expression before returning her attention to the pick and her teeth.

“Well,” she murmurs, “It probably does beat the hell out of this.”

She picks out another piece of gristle and then flings the implement into the darkening jungle.

“Although,” she adds, with an air of superiority. “I would _never_ eat a fucking _dianoga.”_

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, sweetheart,” he says, and she turns to face him, eyebrows raised as a smirk crosses her face.

“Is that right, _sweetheart?”_

He stares up at her as still he rubs his full belly, and her smirk softens into a smile.

“You coming back with me tonight?” he whispers.

“Maybe,” she breathes, leaning down to kiss him.

Rey feels the tip of his tongue press at her lower lip. She opens her mouth and tastes the pie. It’s sweet, meaty and rich.

 _I told you it was good,_ she hears him think.

 _Fuck, you’re gross,_ she thinks back, but still she lets him kiss her with an open mouth as she senses.

 _You went shopping,_ she thinks, as she can’t help but smile into his kiss and he breaks away, smiling back.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I do that, sometimes.”

“That image is too funny,” she murmurs, bringing a hand to his face and curling loose strands of his hair behind one of his ears. “I just can’t imagine _you_ in a _shop.”_

“I got you something,” he says, quietly. _“Mistress.”_

“There were _several_ things that I requested, _Ben,”_ she says haughtily, but still smiling.

“Oh, I got all that, too,” he says, quickly.

“Even the collar?”

He snorts.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding slightly and sounding vaguely nervous.

It’s always thrown her, that contradiction in Ben. He is so fucking _big_ , and yet she’s always felt in him a thing that is still very small. Maybe it’s the Light, but she doesn’t sense it’s that. It’s more like a thing that’s in _Ben,_ before he’s a thing that’s connected to the Force, and aware of it. It’s just a thing about Ben as a _person._ As maybe a boy, like she’d once been a girl. They are still just a boy and a girl, after all. Only now, he’s big. And she is, too.

Rey’s heart clenches. She leans into him again and puts her teeth to his lower lip, biting down softly several times. Then she pulls at him gently before letting him go as she hears him sigh.

“Come back _now,”_ he murmurs, “It’s not all there yet, but we could still play for a while...”

Rey raises an eyebrow.

 _“It’s not all there yet?”_ she says, quietly, feigning a look of dissatisfaction. “Well, that simply won’t _do,_ Ben.”

She watches him raise a hand to her chest and stroke down her sternum, bringing his fingers to rest at the place where her belly meets his.

“Don’t you want to know what I got you?” he asks, softly.

Rey brings her face close to him again and brushes the tip of her nose to his before lifting her mouth and placing a kiss at his forehead.

“What did you get me?” she breathes.

“You’ll have to come back and see,” he whispers. “I need to know if it goes with everything else you wanted.”

Rey smiles again and brings her mouth to his neck as she feels his hands work their way beneath her garments, one up and one down.

“I can’t,” she sighs, “I’m on static patrol.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, but…”

“Well, I’ll come to you, then.”

Rey blinks, frowning.

“But I thought you…?”

“It’s okay,” he breathes. “Maybe, it’s okay…”

“I don’t want this to end like it did last time,” she murmurs, thinking back to the Mysess Glade and the aftermath of their first date, when Ben couldn't block his mother and had been messed up for nights afterward. “I’d rather wait, Ben, and I’ll go to you tomorrow, when I can…”

“It won’t be like that,” he murmurs back. “I _promise…”_

Rey frowns. Something is telling her it will.

“Rose will be here soon, we patrol in pairs,” she lies, bracing.

He looks at her with big, dark eyes full of trust and she braces hard, blocking and hoping to the Maker that his full belly and her promise to go to him tomorrow night will mean he won’t push her too hard now.

“But you _will_ come tomorrow?” he murmurs, as she watches relieved when his eyes drop to her mouth and he presses his lips to hers. _Please promise me you will, Rey?_

 _I promise,_ she thinks back, as his kiss deepens and her stomach knots.

She hates lying to Ben.

 _It’s even worse than porg,_ she thinks to herself, once he’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support for this fic xx


	64. Black Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 17. Part 1 of 5. Ben.
> 
> For all the times you couldn’t sleep  
> And all the rest,  
> When you couldn’t wake either.

Ben frowns, tilts his head to one side and lowers his chin just slightly. He lifts his cheek off the pillow on the double bed in the apartment and attempts to gain a clearer view of Rey. It’s difficult. She’s buried beneath the blanket.

 _What the fuck are you doing?_ he thinks through the bond.

He watches her cocooned form wriggle a touch but she doesn’t emerge or say or think anything back to him. Instead, she stays almost exactly where she’d been when he’d first found her several minutes ago.

“Rey?” Ben whispers again through the bond, as he starts to sense for her feelings now, worried. “Are you sick?”

She mumbles something but it’s muffled by the blanket.

“I’m coming to you,” he warns, and then pauses just in case she objects, or he suddenly senses Rebels nearby.

Rey doesn’t move and the silence persists. Cautiously, Ben emerges next to her.

 _“Rey?”_ he calls softly again.

Ben places one hand where he guesses her upper arm has come to rest. It’s hard to tell. The blanket is pulled all the way above her head and she’s tucked it down beneath her cheek, too.

Carefully, he shifts the hand around her covered shoulder and senses for a gap beneath the side that’s closest to him, around where he guesses her waist should be. Gently, Ben works the hand beneath the edge he senses there and then he slides it in until he can feel the light cotton of her tunic and the heat that radiates from the warm body beneath it.

Rey moves a little in his direction. He takes it as a sign that she doesn’t mind this. He lifts the blanket just enough to poke his head beneath it, working his way in to her so that now they’re both below its coarse weave. Ben curves his palm around her mid-flank, feeling the shallow rise and fall of her chest and sensing as he watches her face. Her eyes are closed and her chin is tucked down. She feels sad, and it’s not a thing he’s used to feeling in her.

“Did something happen?” Ben whispers.

“No,” Rey murmurs, moving closer.

She snuggles in to his body and he welcomes her with arms that wrap right round.

“You feel sad,” he murmurs, voicing the thought as he presses his lips to her hair and drinks in its scent.

She gives a small sigh.

 _I just feel bad,_ she thinks.

“Bad?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “Just, like, _low…”_

She wriggles her head and looks up at his face and her hand presses to his bare chest, her fingers tracing invisible lines she must see there before moving to the pronounced one made by his scar. What’s causing this? Sure, she _cries,_ but this isn’t that. It doesn’t feel the same as that energy when it comes from her and seems to give her energy. It feels as though, somehow, she’s stalled.

“You need to get out of here,” he whispers. “That’s all.”

“I miss you when you’re not here,” she says vaguely, below her breath. “And I can’t talk to anyone about it.”

Ben wants to smile, but he can’t at that, it’s bittersweet.

“Come back with me, then,” he murmurs, trying for a second time to coax her out of this. “You’re blue, that’s all. Forget it for a while.”

“Mm,” she mumbles back.

Was that a yes? He can still sense she’s low. Ben pauses, thinking and still holding her close. Gently he tugs down the blanket. She’s so warm against his skin. He’s missed that feeling. His heart clenches.

“Rey?”

“Mm?” she mumbles again.

“Did this happen before? Or just now?”

“Before?”

“Before we started doing this here,” he clarifies. “Did you feel like this before? Or is this because of me?”

“It’s not because of you, Ben,” she murmurs, snuggling into his chest again and running her palm over him in the way he loves, trailing it down over his abdominals and to the top of his thigh. It’s so relaxing. He wishes he could relax her like that.

“I’ve felt it before, at night,” she says softly. “But day fixes it. It’ll be gone by the morning…”

She trails off and Ben frowns. For several minutes he just holds her, waiting to see if she’ll go on, and after a time she does.

“Nights drag out so long and I can’t get to sleep. But in the morning it’s like it never even happened. I feel it a lot, and sometimes try to think about it. About why. Do you ever feel that?”

Holy shit. Did he ever.

Rey looks up at him.

“Yes,” Ben breathes, gazing down at her wide, hazel eyes which reflect the lights from the star system above them in the cloudless sky. “All the time. Except when I’m with you. So, I guess I feel it less than I used to. But it’s still there when I’m alone.”

Rey stares back, blankly at first and then the tiniest smile begins to lift her face.

“On ships,” he continues, taking a very deep breath and feeling his stomach churn but forcing the words out anyway, “There’s never really a morning. Not a real one. Not like here. There’s just the idea. And like a…”

Ben thinks back to the storefront, and the holo-dummy.

“…A simulation. External cues tell you things, not your body.”

Holy shit. This was getting deep.

“Do you miss planets?” she asks. “Is that why you came here? Or, why you went to the moon?”

Ben takes a deep breath.

“I don’t know… I miss feeling like I could wake up and do whatever I wanted. Like, if I wanna lie in, maybe with you, I could. Or if I wanna get up and work out, I could do that. If I wanted. Or if I wanna make a plan, to do something I need or you need, I could do that too. But I wouldn’t have to do any of it because I wouldn’t be... stuck.”

For minutes they lie together in silence, gazing up at the sky and watching the moons of Kashyyyk slowly climb their way higher above the tree-lined horizon.

“Have you ever wondered what they’re called?” she asks, still looking up.

“No,” he says, slowly. “Not really.”

Ben’s eyes grow hot and he feels her hand at the corner of one of them. He doesn’t blink or move, because if he does the tears forming there now will spill and he doesn’t want that here. He can’t be vulnerable here anymore.

“Let’s go,” Rey whispers.

He shuts his eyes tight and when he’s back on the bed in the apartment he senses she’s not far behind. Quickly Ben brings a hand to his eyes and rubs to clear them, blinking. But the tears haven’t left, and he knows it’s felt good to shed them.

He’d left the blinds open before he’d connected and the orange light that’s normally subtle at this time of evening floods the bedroom. Sensing Rey is with him now Ben turns to face her. Bathed in the light she looks oddly surreal, and again he remembers the holo-female he’d stared at late yesterday in the window of the costume storefront.

Tears still at his eyes, Ben leans over and kisses Rey deeply. He feels her gentle hand at his nape and her fingers work their way up below his hair and across his lower scalp. Then her other hand begins to do the same and he sighs into her mouth as he feels her sadness still, but it’s lessening, and after some time he slows the kiss and pulls himself back, sensing again.

“I got a collar,” he says, tentatively. “Do you wanna see it?”

When her eyes brighten, he smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading xx


	65. Collar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 17. Part 2 of 5. Rey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There seemed to be quite a lot of interest in the collar so enjoy the extra long chapter! Feel free to ask for more of anything else, I love incorporating asks and requests, it’s really fun.

Still just wearing trousers, Ben leans back on his knees beside Rey as she gazes salaciously at him, her earlier troubles forgotten.

“I want you to put it on,” she says, sitting up on the bed. “Or will I?”

He returns her a rather cunning look before moving off the mattress. She moves, too, and follows him into the lounge.

“You’ve decorated,” she notes, mildly amused and raising an eyebrow as she surveys the room.

It’s predictably minimal, and not without the hallmarks of a style she’d expect from Ben. Traces of the ruin he’d described to her earlier are still visible, but he’s concealed them well.

A dusky modular sofa in the corner furthest from the kitchenette takes up a third of the floor space. Opposite this, he’s mounted a modest holoscreen and below that is a low black bench. The faux boards that make up the floor are scuffed in places but he’s unfurled a charcoal rug across much of it and this takes the focus off the worst of the damage.

“What do you think?” he asks, as she runs a bare toe through the plush throw.

“I’m impressed,” she says, grinning.

He snorts.

“Rey, you come from a fucking desert planet, I could probably just throw a couple of pieces of…”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she warns, but still grins as she points a finger in his direction and saunters over to the sofa as he follows.

Now she notices the variety of things he’s laid out carefully across it, including the collar, which he picks up and hands to her.

“Mistress,” he says, and grins as she takes it.

“Kneel,” she says softly, and Ben obeys. “You know, you’re very obedient for a leader…”

“For now,” he says, still grinning as he looks up at her. “Can’t guarantee it’ll always be that way.”

She feels her stomach flip and turns the fine, jet black collar over in her hands, frowning at it slightly and fumbling to get it undone. For Maker’s sake, she’s good with her hands, why is she suddenly finding undoing a buckle so fucking difficult?

“How the fuck…?” she mutters, still all nervous thumbs. “Oh, wait, there we go… Tilt your chin up further.”

He obeys again and she places it from back to front around Ben’s neck. It yields pleasingly in her hands as she fits the strap carefully through its delicate silver buckle and then, with two fingers slipped between the collar and his neck, gently she works the latch through a notch and fastens it in place.

“Does that feel okay?” she asks, removing her fingers and bringing her hands in close, so they touch him lightly around the neck, checking. “Not too tight?”

“Very comfortable,” he murmurs.

Still looking down at him, now she notices the D-ring through which a fine black leash is threaded. It catches awkwardly across one of his bare shoulders. Gently she shifts the collar so the extra length of leather falls between his pecs and ends in a series of soft loops on the rug between his spread knees.

Rey strokes along it as his eyes remain fixed on hers. When she gets to the end she collects the leash in her hand and holds it slack across her open palm, feeling the weight of the supple hide.

“You’re good at this,” Rey breathes, as his eyes remain faithful. “Subservience.”

Gently, Rey pulls the leash toward herself, gathering its length in her opposite hand. When she reaches the end of Ben’s tether he leans forward, and she leans in to meet him. Gently she pulls up. He tilts his chin and it comes to rest on her belly, his eyes still fixed on hers.

“This is really hot,” she murmurs.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes, as she strokes his face with the fingers of her free hand.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go anywhere…”

“I really wanna take you out,” he whispers.

“Stand up, then,” she says.

He obeys and she drops the leash, smiling as when he moves it hangs loosely down his chest and she longs to reach for it again, but supposes they have all night for that.

Rey’s eyes return to the sofa and she raises her eyebrows expectantly.

“All yours,” he says quietly, as she crosses the floor.

“So,” she says, slowly. “What first?”

“This,” Ben replies with certainty, handing her the set of strappy cherry-coloured underwear.

She holds the flimsy garments up in her hands and gives them a quick once over. Then she flings them both back down on the sofa and lifts her tunic over her head.

“You know,” she starts, as now she removes her undergarments too and stands naked in the lounge as she attempts to determine the front from the back of the very scant pair of knickers he’s bought, “I would’ve given almost anything to be there when you asked to buy these.”

 _“Almost_  anything?” he scoffs.

She steps into the briefs and shimmies them up her legs. They sit just below her hips and halfway down the cheeks of her arse and she twists her neck to look back at herself in them before flicking her eyes to his for approval.

He’s dropped his jaw and his eyes seem to be fixed on the place where the fabric disappears up her crack.

And that’s good enough for Rey. She picks up the bra by its straps and jiggles it. Then she loops her wrists and arms through and fastens the clasp at the back, pulling down the wire in front and pushing her curves up.

“Well?” she asks, adjusting once more and then turning to face him as she cocks a half-mocking hip in his direction.

“That’s going to be a problem,” he murmurs seriously, walking slowly to her.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he confirms. “You’re definitely not gonna have that on for long enough to get out of here in it.”

She laughs as his fingers trace the filmy material cupping her breasts and he curves a palm under one. Sensing this could stall very rapidly, Rey takes him on a short leash and tugs gently.

“Fuck…” he snorts.

“I could get used to this,” she says, happily. “Sensua bindings. Where are they?”

“Behind you, under the wrapped package.”

“Get them,” she says, dropping the leash.

Ben gives a low whistle as he shifts the package and collects the mass of supple leather rope in one of his big hands.

“Shit,” she mutters, as he hands her a tangled mess and she holds it up with a look of total bewilderment. “How in the fuck…?”

“Like this,” he says calmly.

He gives the bindings two quick flicks with his wrist and pulls the lower end down toward the floor with his opposite hand. Then he works a toe beneath a loop she swears wasn’t there a moment ago and looks at her as though he’s done nothing more than something obscenely complicated.

“How in galaxy’s name…?”

“I told you,” he warns. “Don’t ask. See the loops either side of this one?”

She stares and nods as he indicates the one he’s got his toe through.

“Yeah…”

“Put your feet in.”

Smirking, but remaining silent, she pays his request and he works the loops to her upper thighs. They tighten as he applies a firm but gentle pressure, but nothing about it feels restrictive to Rey. Then he crosses the bindings across her pelvis, returns them to cross again at the small of her back and then wraps for a final time across her breasts.

“One arm and your head through here,” he murmurs, and she does it. “And now the other.”

She can feel his body brushing at her back as he adjusts the final loop across her shoulder, then trails his hands down her to make slight tweaks here and there. Hands at her hips he turns her gently and does the same to the front of her body, beginning at her thighs and ending at her shoulders.

“How does it feel?” he asks, quietly. “Too tight?”

“No,” she murmurs, shifting her hips, clenching her stomach and arching her spine.

The bindings are almost nonexistent when she senses for them, and they seem to move with her as though following the contours of the major muscles in her upper thighs and torso.

“It feels amazing,” she breathes. “Like…”

“Back-up. Reinforcement.”

She frowns

“Yeah...”

“Boots?” he asks, changing the subject. “Or the makeup and stuff?”

“Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot the boots…,” she says vaguely, her mind still preoccupied by Ben and his knowledge of bindings as his hands continue to brush across the ones that now adorn her. “I can do the makeup last, it won’t take long…”

“I got the hardweaves,” he says, reaching for another box and flipping the lid.

“You’re the best,” she murmurs, as she sits down on the edge of the sofa and he kneels at her feet, unzipping and zipping the boots.

When Rey stands, she shifts her weight from foot to foot. The patinaed cherry of the leather feels soft but remarkably sturdy. It was probably a wiser choice; if for some reason they were caught out she could run better in these than something heeled. Taking Ben’s face in her hands, she kisses him and he grins again.

“I got you something else,” he whispers.

“Ben, you didn’t have to…,” she says, as he walks to the sofa and collects the wrapped package.

“I don’t want you to be cold,” he murmurs, handing it to her and when she lifts the wrappings her breath catches at the color.

 _“Ben…,”_ she breathes, as he helps her unfold the velveteen cloak.

“Turn around,” he says, softly. “Mistress.”

He drapes it across her shoulders and reaches forward to fasten the clip in front. The weave of the deep crimson fabric is whisper light and as she runs her hands down the lengths that fall all the way to her mid-calves, it seems to want to move with her. She steps forward and turns. It billows and then returns to hug about her hips and she feels a warmth akin to Ben’s arms.

Rey looks up at him. He wears the same hypnotized expression he had on earlier when he’d first seen her in just the tanga.

“What should I call you?” she asks.

“Huh?” he mutters, still wearing the collar and shaking his head as he gapes at her body, now almost complete in its dancer disguise.

She grins again and steps toward him and his hands move magnetically to her hips, collecting her from there and drawing her in. She looks lovingly at him as she runs her hands along the leash and pulls him in gently to kiss.

 _What should I call you?_ she thinks again, as she opens her mouth around his. _When we’re out?_

 _Whatever you want,_ he thinks back, as he parts his lips and receives her tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, more soon xx


	66. Possible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 17. Part 3 of 5. Ben.

Rey’s hands move to Ben’s still bare chest and he feels her press at him gently as she leans back and with reluctance lets her mouth slip from his.

“Up or down?” she whispers.

“What?” he asks, gazing stupidly at her again.

She collects the leash falling slack down his chest from its tether at the collar he still wears, and gently Rey draws him toward her as she backs into the bathroom. When she crosses the threshold she lets the leash go and Ben leans on the frame of the bathroom’s door, feet still bare. She turns and he can see her face reflected in the mirror in which she now stares, and their eyes make contact.

“Hair up?” she asks, gathering it all with her fingers, giving it a rough twist and then setting it loosely on top of her head as she makes a face.

“Or,” she says, letting it all go again, “Should I wear my hair down?”

She shakes it out and it falls loosely across the shoulders of the cloak as she makes another face at herself in the mirror. Ben grins and opens his mouth to speak.

“Don’t you dare say you don’t care,” she cuts, turning and pointing a finger straight at him in what seems to have become her preferred method of giving him a telling off. “I need you to have an opinion now, Ben.”

“Down,” he says, and she smiles.

“Are you dressing, too, or what?” she asks, giving him the once over and then smiling wryly. “But, by the way, if you’re not, and I seriously get to lead you around in that thing all night, I won’t object, Ben.”

He snorts as she grins and then turns her attention to the haphazard pile of cosmetics it’d taken him ages to select yesterday from the stores in the sex district. “I don’t even know what half this shit is even  _for_ …”

He grins stupidly again, crosses his arms and shifts his feet, swapping shoulders against the doorframe.

“You don’t even need it, you look incredible,” he says, softly.

Their eyes meet again in the mirror and when she winks his heart virtually bursts.

“But I need to look  _different.”_

“You already  _do,”_  he urges. “I mean, well, you _don’t,_ but, you do…”

Fucking hell, was that even sensical? Ben seemed to have lost the ability to connect his brain to his mouth back in the lounge room when he’d first seen her in the lingerie.

He watches her start to dip fingers into something potted and deep crimson in color and begin to smear it in shallow arcs beneath her eyes and then in high waves above them, up to her brows so they connect into shapes like curved teardrops.

She pauses and looks at him with eyebrows raised and he nods in a silent approval.

“Ben, get dressed,” she reminds him, picking up something else and beginning to leave black dots around the edges of the red boteh shapes that now adorn her eyes.

“Oh, yeah, right,” he says slowly, coming to his senses and looking down. “Dressed…”

He shifts his weight once more and lumbers back to the bedroom, collecting the sleeved cowl, vest, belt and footwear he’d left in there earlier at the foot of the double bed. He returns to the lounge and dumps it all on the sofa. Then he pauses, thinking.

“Yes,” she calls from the bathroom, answering the question before he’s even asked it. “You can take it off now if you want.”

He smiles.

“Can you remind me,” he calls to her from the lounge as he shrugs on the cowl and reaches for the vest, “To give you the blaster?”

“Oh, yeah,” he hears her say slowly, sensing she’s still immersed in dotting the stuff around her eyes. “Ben?”

“Yeah?” he answers, as he fastens the belt and sits down to pull on socks and then boots.

“I finished it.”

“Yeah, good,” he says, with an air of relief.

He’s growing anxious to leave, not least of all so he can get her back here and fuck her so comprehensively they’ll be at it for a standard week, but also because he just simply wants to get her back here, unharmed and in one piece.

Ben would never admit it to Rey, but he’s racked with nerves now. And even though she’s taken the edges off his original plan to take her out tonight by insisting she leave equipped with a blaster, he’s still exceedingly nervous.

“Oh, no, not  _that,”_  she calls back, still in the bathroom. “I’m still trying to figure out what the fuck these are... Can you come here?”

Ben frowns, stands and walks to her.

When she turns to face him it’s as though he’s gazing at something he senses shouldn’t be anywhere near him, it’s that beautiful. And when she smiles, and he feels what must surely be the stupidest grin he’s ever worn in his life possess the features of his face, he’s even more sure that he’s dreaming.

Maybe he did fall asleep beneath the Great Tree, that night they walked to the edge of the Mysess Glade. Maybe his head had invented the rest. Maybe it still was.

After all, how is any of this even possible? That the apartment has survived the various cataclysms the moon has endured since his parents had fled it? That he’s ascended and can now do apparently whatever he likes without fear of retaliation? That a Jedi girl has agreed to help him not just once but by now so many times he’s lost count? It was beginning to border on the ridiculous.

And, most baffling of all, as if none of the rest of it even compared, that he’s fallen in love with her, and that she loves him back?

He gapes at Rey as she holds the hair ornaments at her earlobes, one in either hand.

“Ben?”

“Huh?”

“How the fuck am I meant to put these on?”

He smiles and closes the distance between them in two quick strides, taking gently in his hands the jewels she holds out awkwardly to him.

Carefully Ben observes her hair, noticing the way its inclination is to divide slightly off center of the imagined line extending up from the tip of her nose. He slides the hairpins in on either side of the natural part in her hair near the middle of her forehead and they nestle there, the small mechanisms hidden by the fall of locks that frame her face.

Then he gazes down at her as the colors in the topaz stones now suspended from her hairline set off the hazel in her heavily decorated eyes and he almost chokes when he says it, feeling the hot prickle again but smiling while he says the words that draw the tears to the corners of his.

“They’re hairpins, not earrings, you gorgeous fuck.”

“Really?” she frowns.

“Honestly, Rey,” he breathes, curling loose strands of her hair behind her ears and then dropping his hands to the ends of it. “You’re thicker than a moof-milker sometimes.”

And before she can say any of the obscene things she can think of to call him in that instant, he puts his mouth over hers until she closes her eyes and leans in to absorb his kiss.

“Let’s go,” he murmurs, when at last and with reluctance he breaks away slowly.

“You need your cape,” she says quietly, as he feels her hands turn him gently and shepherd him out of the bathroom door. “And there’s one more thing I need.”

“Oh, yeah, blaster,” he remembers, as he shoulders the heavy cape and turns to watch her from the back, the soles of her hardweaves a rhythmic tattoo commanding his attention from the hard expanse of floor as she moves across the lounge, swathed in the deep cherry fabric of the velveteen cloak.

“No,” she says plainly, returning the cosmetics to the couch and then disappearing back into the bathroom while he waits patiently in the lounge. “I told you already.”

“Huh?”

“I fixed it.”

“Fixed what?”

“It was fairly straightforward in the end,” she says reemerging, her eyes bright and clear as she holds her clasped palm out to him, horizontal to the floor and around another thing he doesn’t believe at first.

 _“That’s impossible,”_ Ben hardly dares breathe, as he stares. “When the fuck did you…?”

“No, laser brain,” Rey murmurs with an affectionate eye roll, as she activates the twin blades of the double-edged saber, and Ben’s jaw hits the floor as he watches the familiar blue light bathe her and turn everything red she wears a shade of ultraviolet he could search the galaxy high and low for but never find because it’s here. “It sure as shit is.”

Possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading this! I just couldn't resist a bit of saber at this point, it's been a theme through their conversations in so many chapters now. It really isn't my intention to solve things in this fic, but I just *had* to do this one little thing, so please forgive me! lol xx


	67. The Meltdown Cafe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 17. Part 4 of 5. Rey.
> 
> Longer read, hope you enjoy it :)

She lets her gaze indulge itself in the clean lines of her dual-blade for a few moments longer before deactivating her saber and lifting her proud eyes to meet Ben’s.

“Close your mouth, sweetheart,” Rey murmurs, grinning. “Although…”

She slides the hilt of her weapon beneath the strap of the tanga and steps towards him.

“...the dropped jaw suits you,” she breathes, still smiling as she touches the tips of her fingers to the surface of his vest and trails her hand to his lower lip, brushing her thumb across it and placing a firm kiss at his still gaping mouth.

Ben grips her hard by the nape of the neck and presses his mouth back to Rey’s as his thigh ploughs to the gap at the apex of hers. She retreats before she can brace, feeling his other hand take her by the small of her back to steady her in his arms. Still reeling, the sudden impact of Ben against her in a fit of passion she hasn’t really experienced ‘til now makes her aware of how very measured he’s been with her to this point.

But something in him has suddenly overtaken the carefully calculated calm he’s approached her with since reconnecting after Crait, a thing that’s allowed her to dominate him. And a thing that has led to this; which feels a little like the times she’s called him Kylo in his chambers, and a little like the times his instincts used to dictate their relationship in the past, right back to its tenuous beginnings on Takodana when he’d taken her against her will.

Rey wants that again, but only because she knows with certainty that she’s equipped to match him now. For several more moments she lets him have her in his arms as he pushes her against the wall of the lounge, buttressing her back and pushing up with his thigh as Ben’s hands grip her by the crooks of her knees to shift her semi-naked arse up the wall.

The red cloak catches at the clasp around her neck and she gasps breathless before it snaps. Ben’s mouth plants itself just below her collarbone and he groans into her bare flesh as her head tilts back, indulging in this for several more moments before she takes charge of him again.

“You want me to stay here?” she warns roughly, as the air travels through her larynx in ragged bursts.

 _What?_ he thinks back, as his teeth graze down her neck and scrape along her cleavage, exposed and accentuated by the cherry-colored bra he bought her on the mean streets of the moon.

“You heard me.”

She feels his teeth pause above the hard point of her nipple, still concealed beneath the slippery fabric of the scant garment that barely contains the breast it belongs to. Then he lifts his face, still clutching her atop his muscled thigh, her back pressing flat against the wall, and he stares at her, hard. Ben sighs.

“Fine,” he concedes, softening his grip on the meat of her thighs and dropping her to the floor, but not before she feels him wait for the soles of her hardweaves to find it.

Rey pauses, taking several moments to recover her breath as the cloak slithers down her back to the synthetic floorboards. She raises her eyebrows imperiously.

“Sorry,” he mutters, and when she smirks in response he cracks a smile and she reaches for his face.

“You are so infuriating,” she breathes, just before kissing him.

 _We should go,_ she hears him think, as his tongue licks adoringly beneath hers.

She wants to bend and collect the red cloak from the floor but his hands refuse to let her go. Taking hold of them, gently she draws Ben off her once she’s pulled herself away from his hungry mouth and then she reaches down a hand to scoop up the supple fabric from around her booted ankles.

“You’re absolutely sure you don’t just wanna stay here and fuck me?”

“Very tempting,” she replies, grinning. “But this was _your_ idea, Ben, remember?”

She wraps the cloak around her shoulders as he moves to the front door, opening it for her as she steps beyond the privacy of the apartment’s walls and into what she doesn’t know, as Ben follows.

“Nervous?” he asks.

“You’ve asked me that before,” she starts, as their boots clip down the last of the stairs and they step onto the street. “And the answer’s still no.”

“You need to call me  _Master,”_ he says below his breath, reaching for her hand. “And that’s not a kink. Do you understand?”

“Yes  _Master,”_ she breathes.  _“_ Okay, _now_ I’m fucking nervous _…”_

“Don’t be,” he whispers, as she feels him squeeze the hand gently while her other clutches closed the front of the damaged cloak. “Just relax. I’m with you.”

“Is it far?” she murmurs.

“No,” he says, and she feels his stride loosen and lengthen but slow to match the pace of hers as she’s reminded of the Kkowir Forest, and the way they’d wandered through it together, nights ago now. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m fucking _starved,_ Ben,” she says, turning to look up at him as their eyes meet and he smiles. “I mean  _Master.”_

“Dianoga pie,” he teases, raising his eyebrows at her and she snorts with derision.

“Oh, my fucking stars, Ben, I am  _not_  fucking eating that shit. They better have something else, too.”

He laughs. Then she feels him tense and the hand he has around hers tenses, too.

“No more talking now,” he murmurs. “Not until we’re there, okay?”

 _Okay,_  she thinks back, squeezing his hand.

He lets go of her and then she feels his palm brush against the bare curve of her lower arse cheek, exposed by the impoverished cut of the tanga and not helped by the fact that the bindings are little more than thin decorative strappings that certainly don’t provide an inch of any real cover; she’s glad of the cloak. He slips a finger between her cheeks and she clenches in surprise as he snorts.

 _I’ll rip you to shreds for that later,_ she thinks.

 _I’ll look forward to it immensely,_  he thinks back, as she feels him shift the hand to her hip and apply a firm but gentle pressure, turning her to face a seedy looking building from which the smells of rich food waft in their direction.

 _Remember,_ he thinks, as he guides her through the doors of the diner.  _I’m your Master, and you’re my slave. Drop your eyes to the floor._

Still nervous, Rey obeys but her senses do nothing like comply to such a request for blindness to her surroundings. She feels the impressive way Ben commands the room as service droids and sentients defer to him and accommodate her because she’s on his arm, even though the costume makes it very clear she’s not his equal.

As far as she can sense, she still goes unrecognized. The dancer disguise appears to be providing her with the cover they both need in order to live this out; the fantasy of spending time together in public. Eyes still on the floor, Rey feels Ben’s hand at her back, gently ushering her forward to a booth in the furthest corner.

“Remove your cloak, and sit here,” he commands quietly, indicating one side of the booth as he moves to the other.

Rey lets go of the grip she has on the garment where the broken clasp would have closed it, and lets the cherry velveteen fall from one shoulder. As it slithers down her back, she feels for the saber still tucked in the strap of the tanga and deftly collects it beneath the last of the fabric as it slides away from her body.

She looks to Ben, whose eyes have locked again on her scantly covered skin.

 _“Master,”_ she prompts, suddenly aware it might look odd if he stood there like that for too long, dumbly waiting for direction from a half-naked dancer girl.

“Oh, right,” he says, as she feels him return.

Ben removes his heavy cape and she feels a sudden urge to command him to remove the rest of it too as he gives her hungry glances now and then while he folds it. But she bites her tongue.

“Sit down,” he breathes.

They slide together into opposite sides of the booth. He’s positioned her carefully so her back is to the room but he can face it, his own back to the wall. Ben lowers his head and leans forward to reach a hand across the table. She mirrors the movement and he clasps her by the fingers and brings them to his mouth, kissing her quickly then dropping their hands back down, but still holding.

“Well?” he asks, softly, “What do you think?”

The diner is dark, lit by numerous lamps that don’t match as though they’ve been collected over years. The booths are intimate; the high backs of the padded hemispherical lounges affording a privacy they both appreciate.

The table between them is generous, but not so wide she feels at a distance to Ben. Rey likes the way the side of his boot strokes up her bare legs every now and then, as well as the way he smiles each time she touches the toe of her own boot gently to his inner thighs in response.

Something slow, dark and moody plays from a static droid several booths away and Rey continues to gaze across the table at Ben as she lets the music affect her.

“I can see why you like it here,” she murmurs after several minutes spent just enjoying the ambience, and looking at Ben beneath the dark, warm glow of the lamps.

“Yeah?” he says, curious.

“It’s got a vibe that suits you,” she says, quietly. “The low light, the music… _very_ you.”

He purses his lips appreciatively and nods.

“I haven’t been here in a long time,” he says, slowly. “But it hasn’t changed much.”

Rey gives him a small smile and shifts her hand slightly, still clasped in his.

“So,” he says, smiling. “Shall we order?”

With his other hand he reaches for a scruffy looking menu and places it in front of her, tracing a finger down the list of items.

“You can get whatever you want,” he says, softly. “This is the drink I told you about…”

He stops his finger above it and when she reads the name she grins.

“Still sounds perfect.”

He raises a practised hand and a droid arrives at their booth almost instantly.

“Two Sunburns, a Dianoga Pie, and…”

He looks at Rey expectantly.

She scans the menu again.

“A Gorba Melt, please,” she says to the droid, and Ben snorts.

“Go out on a limb, why don’t you…”

Rey narrows her heavily decorated eyes.

“I don’t know much of any of this stuff,  _Master._ And besides, Gorba Melts are good…”

“Can I suggest something?”

“Can I still get the melt?”

“Of course,” he says, and he turns to the droid. “Give us a minute.”

“Sir,” it warbles, bowing in assent.

Rey senses Ben’s brief discomfort, but it passes fairly quickly and he shifts his attention back to the menu.

“This,” he says gently, running his finger along another item on the battered list still in front of her. “Fern potato fries. Have you had them? Really good with muja sauce.”

 _“Muja_  sauce?” she utters, appalled.

The droid gives her a skeptical look and Ben kicks her under the table.

 _“Ow,”_ she exclaims, frowning at him. “What the fuck did you…? I mean… What an inspired suggestion, of  _course_  I would love to eat such a startling combination of foods, _Master._ Fries and fruit sauce. Delicious.  _Yes, please.”_

_You are mine when we get back, that was not acceptable._

_Yeah, well, neither was kicking me in the fucking shins, Ben._

“Sir?”

Rey’s frown deepens when Ben gives her a very stern look before turning his attention back to the service droid.

“Fern potato fries,” he says firmly, as his eyes flick back to Rey’s.  _“With_  muja sauce.”

Rey pauses, waiting for the droid to reach a sufficient distance from the table and then leans in, furious.

“Is _that_ why you brought me here?” she hisses, barely below her breath.

“No,” he whispers back, beginning to frown.

“Why you’ve done all  _this?”_ she seethes again, pulling her hand from his grasp and indicating her costume.

 _"That,"_ he murmurs, indicating her outfit with a pointed finger, "Was _your_ idea. I was just gonna cuff you, which you could have easily removed _on your own_  at any point if you'd wanted to, by the way..."

“So you could bring me out to a public place like this and _humiliate_ me?” she continues, completing ignoring the very valid point he’s just made.

 _“Rey,”_ he hisses back. “You _know_ that’s not what I’ve done…”

“That _is_ what you _just did, Ben,”_ she says defiantly, leaning back. “I could leave right now. You realize that, right? I don’t have to walk _anywhere_ back with you. I could just fucking _vanish_ if I wanted, Ben. _Right now.”_

He leans back, too, his expression fallen and face ashen.

 _Fuck,_ Rey thinks, now furious for a different reason, and not just at him.

Still glaring, she watches Ben closely as after several moments his hand moves to the neck of his vest and then pauses. He stares across the table at her again.

Rey softens her glare to a frown, curious. Then her stomach flips as she senses it at last.

“You didn’t take it off,” she whispers.

Ben tugs down the fabric and tilts his chin up, revealing the collar he still wears at his neck. Below the table, Rey touches the tip of her red patinaed boot to his inner thigh once more as Ben releases the fabric, concealing the collar again as the droid returns with their drinks.


	68. Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 17. Part 5 of 5. Ben.
> 
> Another longer read. It’s too interesting to imagine the conversations that might occur should these two ever date, so I just went with it and didn’t really edit too heavily or split it up. Hope you enjoy it :)

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, extending cautious hands across the table to Ben.

He leans in to clasp them, their newly-arrived drinks momentarily forgotten.

“Rey…,” he murmurs, taking in the look of guilt that lies behind her painted eyes, mesmerized by the way both they and the topaz stones that rest in the center of her forehead reflect the warm glow of the diner’s eclectic collection of lamplights.

Ben forgets where he is then as she leans in and kisses him. Nothing else matters but her in the minutes he spends adoring her body now, his tongue exploring the textures and flavors of her inner mouth as he feels her doing the same to his. He doesn’t care who’s watching; not that anyone has recognized her yet, he can sense it. What would he give to be able to stay here with her and do this forever? Ben thinks he knows the answer to that.

He feels the knead of her lower lip begin to slow. Gently he pulls his mouth away a little and rests his elbows on the table, slipping a hand beneath her hair and stroking lightly at the back of her neck as he watches her eyes again, hooded and captivating.

She smiles at him and he can’t help but press his lips to hers again briefly. With his free hand, he slides one of the Sunburns across the table to her as he reaches for the other. Ben raises the tall, narrow glass to hers in a toast, and she snorts.

“I got nothing, you?” he admits. “I’ve kind of gone blank…”

“Yeah,” she agrees, still gazing at him. “I’m still back at the collar…”

He takes a very large swig of the syrupy cocktail before setting the glass down. Then he works his fingers to the D-ring at the notch of his neck, eyes leaving hers briefly as he glances up to check first for prying eyes. Ben draws out the length of the soft leash from beneath his tunic and Rey reaches out to him with her free hand to hold it, grinning and drawing the end of it into her lap.

“To doing this, I guess,” she says, touching her glass to his again and then taking a small sip. “Holy shit, Ben, this is delicious…”

He watches her take another small sip as he returns his own glass to his mouth.

“Sweet, huh?” he murmurs.

“Like you,” she says, grinning.

“Like _you,”_ he corrects, quickly.

“Ben, you are way sweeter than me, I’m awful,” she admits. “You’re very… romantic.”

He snorts through his nose.

“What the fuck…?”

She laughs.

“It’s true!”

“You are so full of shit,” he says, shaking his head and then draining the glass.

She tugs at the leash gently.

“Fucking listen to me, Ben,” she urges. “You are lovely.”

He stares at her for several minutes, concentrating hard in order to take in the word she’s just used to describe him, in a very concerted effort to remember it.

 _“Lovely?”_ he repeats, finally. “That’s fucking ridiculous, I’m not lovely…”

“Yes, you are, Ben,” she says. “You’re adorable, too, like a really big cat.”

He laughs and the sound echoes through the diner, cutting across the moody music still playing softly from the static droid at the table nearby. He sees her raise her eyebrows, but she’s still smiling.

“And,” she adds, taking another sip from her glass. “You’re beautiful when you laugh.”

“I think I need another drink,” he says faintly, raising his empty glass at the service droid to indicate they want another round.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she says.

“I knew you’d like it,” he murmurs. “I hope you think the food’s okay.”

“Ben, seriously, I eat everything. I would fucking eat a dianoga too, I mean…” she pauses, taking another small sip from her glass, “It’s a creature who died so I could eat it, for Maker’s sake.”

“Oh,” he says, drawing out the sound and leaning back, laughing again as the droid delivers two more Sunburns to their table. “Now the gloves are coming off. Why didn’t you just say you were a fucking vegetarian? I wouldn’t have given you so much shit before…”

“I’m not a vegetarian,” she says, grinning and draining the last of her first drink as he starts on his second. “I would be though, if I had as much access to food as you clearly do.”

“What, you think the First Order is a five-star resort or something?”

“Well, come on, Ben, it is, right?”

“No,” he confesses. “Well, maybe it is, I don’t know. I just eat what I need and I don’t drink. This, with you… before you, I hadn’t drunk in years, Rey, I’m serious.”

“I believe you,” she says. “You don’t have to justify it.”

“Don’t I?”

“No,” she says, reaching for her second Sunburn. “I kind of get it, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

She sighs.

“I just mean that, well… It must be hard. To do what you do.”

_“What?”_

“Nevermind,” she says, quickly.

“No, seriously,” he says, leaning forward again and taking another generous swig from the glass in his hand. “Explain that.”

“Okay,” she says slowly, and with no trace of a smile. “I don’t envy you, Ben.”

He takes a very long sip after that and then sets the drink down on the table, turning it around with the tips of his fingers and staring into the bottom of it as the last of the syrupy substance swills gently.

“Ben?” she prompts, as he feels her touch a finger to one of his and he looks up from the glass.

“I’m not happy,” he whispers.

“I know,” she murmurs back.

He drains the glass and raises his hand for a third round.

“Will you walk me back?”

 _“Now?”_ she asks.

“No, later on,” he mutters. “When I’m hammered.”

She snorts.

“You just need some food, that’s all. It’ll be here soon.”

Ben looks anxiously across at her. She looks back at him for several moments and then begins to shift around the circular seat to his side of the booth. He makes room for her and when she reaches him he lifts an arm across her shoulders as she snuggles herself into his body and watches her cross her bare thighs towards him.

Rey runs the tip of her boot against his calf. He reaches down and lifts her legs across his thighs, and she crosses her ankles and leans in to kiss him as their food arrives.

“This is better,” he murmurs, lips brushing softly over hers as one hand fingers the bindings that curve around the contours of her upper thighs. “I need you close.”

She gathers the length of the leash in her hands again and gently pulls at it, winding the soft leather rope around her fingers as he watches her mouth, the edges of which have begun to turn faintly pink from the color of the saccharin syrup in the Sunburn. Ben opens his mouth and licks with the tip of his tongue above her upper lip, tasting the faintly bitter sweetness still clinging to it.

“Your eyes are beautiful, Rey,” he murmurs, drawing away and gazing into them as she continues to tug experimentally while holding him close on a short leash.

“We should eat,” she says softly, smiling lazily at him before reaching to the basket of fries in the center of the table and pulling them closer, too.

Ben takes several fries at a time as she wrinkles her nose.

“Wha’?” he mumbles thickly, staring cluelessly at her through his mouthful of food.

She laughs.

“At least you’re eating now,” she concedes, as he watches her pick the fries over to find the ones underneath the layer of muja sauce on top.

“S’good with the sauce, try it,” he urges, taking several more and devouring them, suddenly realizing how hungry he is as his eyes move to the pie.

“All yours,” she says with an air of finality as she reaches for the first half of her melt.

Ben starts on his third Sunburn, then takes an enormous bite of pie, tilting his head back to catch the drips and closing his eyes in rapture as the umami flavor of the rich meat hits his palate.

“Use the fork, Ben,” she says, rolling her eyes.

 _Nah, fuck it,_ he thinks, as with another enormous mouthful only half a crust remains and Rey averts her eyes as he virtually inhales that, too.

Laughing, she covers his mouth as he struggles to chew what’s in it before swallowing forcibly and reaching for his glass again. He leans back and shifts his arm around her bare shoulders, aware again of how naked she is now.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks.

“No,” she says, reaching for the second half of her melt. “You’re like a heater anyway, Ben. If I was, it wouldn’t matter.”

“I can’t believe you wore this out.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, gazing down at her and taking in another generous mouthful of the Sunburn.

Ben can feel his brain beginning to turn to mush, and it isn’t just the result of alcohol as he feels its warmth begin to work steadily through his body. He lowers his mouth and presses it to the warm skin of Rey’s lower neck, kissing slowly down from there all the way to the place where the tight curve of her breast disappears below the fabric of the cherry-colored bra she’d somehow wriggled her way into earlier.

“I just wanna take you home,” he murmurs, as he nuzzles his face to her breast and feels the nipple below the flimsy garment begin to stiffen.

“Home?”

 _“Back…,”_ he corrects, biting gently at her barely contained flesh before lifting his head and draining his third glass.

Setting it down heavily, he brings his hand to her hip and slips his fingers beneath the strap of the tanga, and then inside the front panel of its fabric.

“When did you fix it?” he asks, as he trails his fingers across her soft curls of hair, working his way very slowly down between her thighs.

“I finished it yesterday,” she breathes as Ben slides a finger just inside her, sinking gentle teeth around her hard nipple before lifting his face up to look at her seriously.

“It looked good,” he murmurs.

“Thanks,” she whispers, as her adorned eyes meet his and he touches a finger to her clit.

“Not here,” she breathes. “It’s not safe…”

“It is,” he whispers, sensing.

“Ben, fuck,” she hisses, but when he presses his mouth to the skin behind her ear she doesn’t resist. “How many times have you said my name here?”

“No idea,” he admits, closing his lips around her lobe and tugging at it gently with his teeth.

He feels her reach for her drink. Ben lets her go and watches her take another small sip as he removes the hand he’s had down her pants and begins tracing with it the lines made by the bindings that traverse her upper body, wondering vaguely if he could fuck her with them on when they got back, or if they’d need to come off first.

One drink remains untouched at their table and Ben reaches for it, offering the glass to Rey first but she shakes her head, still with something left in her second.

He feels good. His belly is full and he’s on his fourth glass now. His nerves are sated, not that he had reason to feel nervous. Although he senses Rey’s right; they haven’t been careful. He’s definitely used her name more times than he can count and she’s been calling him _Ben_ for half the night. But the booths immediately around them are still empty, and every time the service droid’s returned Ben’s fairly certain they’ve quietened down.

It’s just the booth a few tables away, where the static droid is still playing a series of dark, atmospheric tunes, that worries him slightly, even after nearly four Sunburns. Ben frowns, sensing again. The music conceals most of the sounds that carry from their table. He makes a mental note to sense for that again when they leave as he takes another generous swill from his glass, and notices Rey’s is empty.

“Would you like another?” he asks her, gazing at the warm glow of her features and wanting nothing more now than to pull her astride his lap, maybe work his hands from the back below her skimpy fabrics while she unfastens his pants.

“No,” she says, still holding the leash in the hand not holding her empty glass. “I think I need to get you… home.”

That word had slipped from his lips rather too casually earlier. Perhaps it was the alcohol, muddling him up. Did he think of the apartment as a home? Not really. He thought of his chambers as exactly that: chambers. Maybe he hadn’t been in them long enough yet to really think of them as anything else, having still only been there for less than three weeks.

Ben frowns, taking another large sip from his glass. Then he drains it and sets the empty down on the table, holding the very last of the sweet liquid in his mouth for several moments as he swills and thinks before finally swallowing. Has he ever thought of any ship as a home?

 _Maybe,_ he thinks, looking at Rey. _Maybe just one._

Her eyes look enormous in the stuff she’d earlier smeared across them, and the Sunburn has colored her lips so red now they almost look smacked. He feels heat for her rise in him, wanting to close his own lips around her lower one and suck and nibble at it, enflaming it further as she moans into his mouth.

“Ben?”

“Huh?”

“Did you hear what I just said?”

“Something about home,” he murmurs, still staring at her lips. “You’re ready to go?”

She smiles and kisses him as she tucks the leash back beneath the neck of his vest and pulls the fabric up to conceal the collar once again.

Ben raises his hand and the droid returns. As Rey gathers her things, he leaves a sheaf of bills and is vaguely aware of a string of warbled protests and then platitudes that issue from its mechanical form but at last they stop, and he and Rey are alone again.

Ben shoulders his heavy cape and helps Rey do the same with her cloak. He leads her by the hand from the booth and then they’re out on the street again. The air is still warm, but nonetheless he pulls Rey in by the shoulders and she reaches with her free hand to clasp the hand he drapes across them as they begin a slow amble back to the apartment.

“Oh, shit,” Ben murmurs into her hair, where he’s had his mouth pressed for several moments as they’ve moved somewhat drunkenly up the street and back towards the residential blocks.

“What?” she asks, looking up at him.

“It’s nothing,” he says, but through the rosy haze the Sunburns have left him feeling, his stomach clenches. “I just meant to check something, as we left…”

“The table with the droid? Playing music?”

“Yeah…”

“Just a couple of Ganks.”

 _“What?_ ” he reels, almost stopping dead, put she pulls him along, still smiling.

“Doing exactly what we were,” she says, lifting her mouth to kiss his, which is still open.

 _“Ganks,”_ he says slowly, still struggling to believe it. “On a _date?_ With _each other?”_

“Why not?” she says, winking and steering him up the stairs as he realizes that she’s steered him back.

Ben feels her guide his palm to the entrance pad and lead him through the entranceway, but Ben tunes out then. When she reaches for his palm for a second time he wonders vaguely how much time has passed in between, and then she’s pulling off his outer garments and working off his cowl as he feels an urgent need to piss.

Somehow, he’s there already, with one hand planted firmly above the cistern as he tilts his head back in relief. Then time seems to skip again like a record as she’s at his feet now, tugging at his legs as he lies prostrate on the soft double bed. Orange lines move in intermittent patterns across the upper walls and then the cool of her body is pressing against his skin.

“You’re cold,” he mumbles, rolling in to face her, and he senses the soft warmth of blankets as she pulls them up.

“And you’re too drunk to fuck, Ben,” she whispers, as she kisses his forehead and he smells the familiar scents of her body, breathing them in as his heavy lids begin to close. “But I still love you.”


	69. Empathy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 18. Part 1 of 4. Rey.

Lightsaber on. Lightsaber off. Lightsaber on. Lightsaber off.

The way the light bounces off the trunk of the Wroshyr is fascinating if Rey compares it to how dull the rest of this activity is. Solo static patrols suck; at least when she’s paired with Rose there’s someone to talk to and that helps pass the time.

Rey can already sense that nothing threatening exists within the vicinity in which she sits here, halfway between the camp and the Mysess Glade, so why does she still sit here? She could be in bed, sensing. It would probably achieve the same thing. Wouldn’t it?

Lightsaber on.

It’s lonely, that feeling. That feeling of knowing she’s right but not being able to explain it properly to anyone. Instinctively Rey senses again for Ben, but he’s still blocking and she wonders what he’s doing.

It’s rare he’s occupied by something other than her these nights. It’s not unusual, as such, but there haven’t been many she’s spent alone since he reconnected after Crait. Rey hopes he’s not terrorizing some Outer Rim territory again.

Did he find the pouches of hemchar she left on the kitchenette bench this morning? He must have; he couldn’t block her unless he was awake. Could he? She hopes he’s not still passed out drunk.

Lightsaber off. Lightsaber on. Lightsaber off.

There was a memory inside Ben’s head that she’d seen once, many nights ago now; he’d woken because he’d sensed something. Rey thought she’d been able to do that once, too, which probably meant she could do it again.

If she could, then that would mean she could go to sleep. She could probably even just sneak back to her scrunched pillow and blanket and sleep there, while sensing for here, and if something happened she could wake up and run back over here, and…

_Nope, doesn’t work like that. You need to stay there, where you are now._

She whips her head around, unable to determine the location he’s projecting to yet.

_I’m not projecting, I’m just listening to you, Rey._

_If I went and got my blanket though…_ she thinks back, following Ben’s first train of thought.

 _And slept there?_ he queries. _Where you are now?_

_Yeah._

_Well that would work fine. But you wouldn’t get much warning._

Lightsaber on. Lightsaber off.

 _That’s no way to treat that, you know,_ he chides _._

Lightsaber on. Lightsaber off.

_I can see why Skywalker threw you off that island._

_He didn’t, I left,_ she thinks back.

_I wanna show you something, what time do you finish?_

_I’m here all night._

_You’re not swapping with someone?_

_We already swapped,_ she thinks back. _I’ve only been here for half a standard hour._

_And you’re already this bored?_

Lightsaber on. Lightsaber off.

_Shut up, Ben._

_Go and get your stuff,_ he thinks.  _I’ll help you sense if you come here. Deal?_

_Will you help me deal with the consequences?_

_What consequences?_

_Well, you know, consequences. Are when…_

_Too many times Rey._

_What?_

_You’ve worn a hole through that gag. Used it too many times. Now stop being difficult and go and get your stuff._

_No,_ she thinks back, stubbornly. _You haven’t said yet if you’ll…_

_Of course I’ll fucking help you. What’s gonna get you, though, a Bantha?_

Rey frowns. That was a cheap shot. He knew she didn’t like Bantha.

She stands and begins the walk back to her bedding, sliding the smooth and slightly curved hilt of the saber into the supple holster she made for it today from a scrap of hide. It feels comfortable there at her hip.

She hasn’t really grown used to carrying her quarterstaff again over the past few weeks. It was strange how that had happened. Or hadn’t, as it were. After all she’d had that thing for years, and the legacy saber for only a few short days, and yet in those days the saber had felt far more familiar to her, as though the staff had always been just a placeholder.

Bending, she collects her meagre bedding from the ground, tucking the pillow beneath her arm and throwing the blanket over one shoulder, and then begins the return trip to her post.

_Ben?_

_Yeah?_

_Why am I doing this again?_

_Because I want to show you something._

_You can’t bring it here?_

_No._

_So, I’m going to you so you can show me something?_

_Yeah…_

_But why am I taking my stuff?_

_I have no idea. You said you wanted to sleep._

_But I won’t be sleeping, I’ll be with you._

_What?_ he thinks, sounding confused.

 _Yeah, I’m there, too,_ she thinks back. _Doesn’t matter, I’m nearly back anyway._

_You’ll be more comfortable, I guess. And warmer._

_Yeah,_ she thinks back, satisfied as she dumps the pillow at the base of the Wroshyr and then sits on it, draws her knees up and throws the blanket over them. _Ben?_

He’s gone quiet.

“Ben?” she whispers into the quiet Kashyyykian night.

Still nothing.

“Well, that’s fucking typical,” she huffs to herself, wondering again what he’s doing.

Is he still at the apartment? Or has he returned to his chambers? Rey senses he’s moved, but it’s not to a place she’s been before. It’s near a place she’s been, but it isn’t either of his bedrooms. It feels like he’s on the warship. Rey drops her head to her knees and hugs them as her stomach begins to churn. Why would Ben return to the warship?

 _You ready?_ she hears him think, returning to the bond.

Rey lifts her head.

“You’re not in the apartment, are you?” she breathes.

_Come and see._

Rey drops her head again and closes her eyes. She reaches out to sense for Ben, and just like the time she first connected with him on the Smuggler’s Moon, she feels him physically reach for her and draw her there, to the place she doesn’t know but which is marked by the same clinical aesthetic as his chambers. He’s in them, but she doesn’t know this room.

“Where am I?” she asks, as her hands make contact with a cold, durasteel floor.

Ben stands over her, booted feet hip-width apart. Nervously, Rey’s eyes travel up the fabric of his jet black trousers. As her gaze arrives at the top of his thighs she sees the ungloved hand he’s reaching down to her, and even though she’s anxious instinctively she grasps it.

Ben pulls her from the floor to her feet, and before her eyes find his they linger on his bare abs and pecs, exposed by the sleeved black cowl.

 _Shit,_ Rey thinks, beginning to grin.

“Exercise chamber,” Ben clips. “What are you like at Form VI?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With 4 nights to go on this fic, I just wanted to say thanks heaps to all of the subscribers to this work. It's really meant a lot over the past few months of writing this, especially updating daily, to know that you are all actually out there somewhere. Cheers to you! xx


	70. Form VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 18. Part 2 of 4. Ben.
> 
> Sorry, just a couple of consistency edits. My bad. Should be fixed now.

“What am I like at _what?”_

Ben grins and pulls her in.

“Form VI,” he says, running palms around Rey’s belted hips and searching with one of them for the length of her saber’s hilt.

When he finds it he strokes it, contained within the leather hide pouch she appears to have resourcefully fashioned to house it in. He brings the other hand to her nape and supports her there with gentle fingers and a thumb as he leans in to kiss her, working his tongue between her pliant lips as he feels the anxiety she felt when she first arrived here continue to calm.

At that, Ben steps back, turns and walks away from Rey and towards the holographic projector instead, which is already on but not yet set to a specific program. Reaching out a hand he begins to dial around slowly as he feels her confusion return. That’s better. He wants her to stay like that for a while longer yet.

Ben continues to silently dial through the various programs until he reaches the sixth. He stands in front of the training holo and turns to face her in silence, waiting.

Rey still stands where he left her, in tunic, boots, belt and trousers and still with the saber sheathed. Ben continues to wait, and as the moments pass her mouth closes. Then the line of her lips begins to thin, pursing gradually until at last her brows start to knit and the frown he’s been waiting for emerges.

Ben crosses the floor at a diagonal to where Rey stands and he sits on the padded bench, legs spread and head tilted back against the wall with his chin raised.

“Oh, _I_ get it,” Rey says, drawing the words out slowly as her eyes continue to narrow at him.

“Do you, now?” he responds just as slowly, as he feels his stomach begin to tighten in anticipation.

“Yes,” she says, reaching a hand to her hip and withdrawing the hilt of her saber.

Ben wants to watch her. That’s essentially why he’s coaxed her here. There are other things, too, that he wants to do but he’ll start with this. Just watching.

“Elaborate on that,” he says quietly and without moving, still looking down his long nose at her with a practiced air of superiority.

Rey cocks a hip in his direction and sighs. Ben looks on as she twirls the hilt once in the palm of her hand and regrips it.

 _“If_ I do this,” she begins, repeating the action. “What are you gonna do for me?”

“Train you,” he murmurs, as his stomach clenches again and he takes a deep breath through his nose and lets it out slowly through his mouth, enjoying every second of this and wanting to savor it.

“And what the fuck makes you think I need training?” she asks. “You’ve never seen me fight with this.”

Ben smiles.

“Prove me wrong, then,” he says, in a measured tone.

“Explain Form VI,” she says, just as calmly, “And I’ll think about it.”

Ben leans forward on the bench and rests his forearms across his knees, wrists slack and thighs still spread.

“There are seven forms of lightsaber combat,” he starts, as he eyeballs her and she stares straight back. “This program is set to Form VI.”

He pauses, taking the sight of her in again as she stands with her hips still slanted in a posture suggesting a confidence he knows she already possesses when it comes to combat, even though he also knows she’s hearing the words he’s saying now for the first time; it’s the theory she lacks, and it’s written in her eyes, the vulnerability she still feels at times because of that.

And no matter how hard she tries to cover it up with a stance or a pose or a curled lip, Ben can still see through to it. Rey drops the hand holding the hilt to her side and shifts her weight to her other hip in emergent frustration. He watches her blink as she senses him pick up on her insecurity, and then her hand re-grips the hilt of the saber while he smiles and continues to wait silently.

“Tell me what that is,” she deadpans.

He raises his eyebrows.

“Please,” she forfeits at last, rolling her eyes. “Fucking _please,_ Ben.”

“It’s a balanced method,” he says, leaning back again, hands still on his thighs and knees still spread. “Used by dual-bladists.”

“What does that mean?” she asks, eyes still narrowed.

“What does what mean?”

_“Balanced method.”_

“It’s used in combination with Force-based attacks, like pulls and shoves. It’s not just about strikes.”

He watches Rey turn her attention to the holographic opponent, kitted out in Jedi garb and armed, just like her, with a quiet blade.

“And you think,” she starts, as she begins a slow walk toward it, gripping and re-gripping the still sleeping hilt in her hand as the holo-Jedi does the same, “That I have no idea how to use this thing to fight that in Form VI. Is that right, Ben?”

“I haven’t said that,” he replies.

“What you say,” she begins, “And what you mean, Ben, are two entirely different things. Do you know that?”

“Quit bullshitting, Rey,” he levels.

 _“I’m_ bullshitting?” he hears her mutter to herself as she activates the twin blades and twirls the hilt once more, this time in a vertical movement.

Ben feels the tension that’s been building in the pit of his stomach move lower down. He shifts his thighs and brings his hands closer to the creases either side of his groin.

“It’s copying me,” he hears her say. “Is that all it does? Because that’s not very fucking interesting.”

“No,” he says, grinning and letting out the breath he’s been holding as he’s watched her stare down the holo-Jedi, and now watches as it mirrors the unconventional stance she adopts as she begins to size it up. “It will mimic you to a point, but then when you engage in combat with it, it’s programmed to perform a set of maneuvers, and you’ll need to respond to them.”

Rey splits her step, left foot forward as she brings her right shoulder back, twirls the blades across the back of her hand and, with the empty left one, opens her palm and freezes the holo. Then she drives the hand still spinning the hilt across the reverse of it forward, pulling her hips back and out of the way of the pass of the trilling lasers as they cut through the disabled form of the holo-Jedi, just before she re-grips.

“So, what you’re basically saying is that it can’t think for itself?” she summarizes, as she extinguishes her weapon and Ben gapes at her from the bench.

“No,” he murmurs faintly, gripping now his upper thigh with one hand as with the other he reaches to his hip instinctively for the hilt of his own blade. "I mean, yes..."

“Then I don’t wanna waste my time,” Rey says plainly.

She turns and begins to cross the floor towards him as their eyes meet.

“I’d rather fight something with a brain,” she says, as she reignites her blades and Ben stands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) Thanks for the continued support for this fic x


	71. Subterfuge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 18. Part 3 of 4. Rey.

Rey’s own weapon feels so good in her hands, like nothing is there at all, and yet she can’t stop noticing the way the icy blue blades gleam as she readies the hilt that connects them.

“Ready when you are,” she says, grinning and positioning her feet as Ben ignites his saber.

The edges of her own saber are nothing like Ben’s, she observes, as she watches him stride forward to meet her in the center of the durasteel floor of his exercise chamber. The light flashes away in flares from his tri-blades in chaotic sequences of untidy sounds, but all that artifice suits him.

“Form VII,” he says, quietly.

In sharp contrast, Rey’s own lasers are clean-edged, smooth and crisp like the border of a beam before a shadow, and the lines she cuts through the air with her dual-blades are just as honest. It had felt effortless, what she’d just done to the holo-Jedi in Form VI, and just beforehand she’d remembered her brief glimpse of Ben slicing compulsively through the holo-Kylo, as she’d searched the contents of his head that night after calling him lost.

Had that been Form VII?

“Yes,” he whispers.

It is familiar, this place, she realizes now, because of that memory, and it also feels terribly sad, as though steeped in a loneliness she could stroke if she reached out with knowing fingers and searched for it. Rey frowns at the feeling and her smile disappears.

But is it the chamber? Or is Ben the source of that sadness? It’s difficult to distinguish one from the other, as though parts of him remain here even when he’s gone, and vice versa. She’d flipped him off so quickly earlier, but perhaps if she’d been less self-absorbed, as she’d sat there like some bored brat on Kashyyyk, she would’ve noticed the sadness still in him.

“Is this really all you brought me here for?” she questions. “To show me this? And to spar?”

They stand mere meters apart now and Rey observes the way the fiery red light of his weapon casts the contours of Ben’s enormous torso into a sequence of magenta ripples, set off by the black of his sleeved cowl as it shadows the power of his shoulders.

“No,” he says, softly.

Ben takes a step forward and her eyes follow his as she senses him draw back his dominant shoulder in a feint. Rey’s upper and lower blades connect in a series of three quick parries until there’s a fourth, in which he feints again but she senses that, too.

Rey twists the hilt of her saber and her lower blade blocks his when he attempts another dodge, out-maneuvering him for a third time as she re-grips her hilt and reverses the course of his parry.

“Your head is so loud,” she murmurs.

Rey watches Ben blink in barely concealed disbelief. She smiles at his expression and pushes back as he begins to temper his effort, allowing her arm to drop slightly, but she’s ready for that ploy, too.

“Nice try, though,” she breathes.

When Ben twists his feet around, attempting to begin a second series of parries that might otherwise cause her to retreat again she re-grips, so that once more her lower blade connects with his.

 _“Two_ blades, Solo,” she whispers, as his eyes widen. _“Two.”_

Rey twirls the hilt across the back of her hand in a vertical arc that clouts his blade again and his forearm derails from the line he’s trialed. Knowing she has him off balance now, she angles her upper blade forward. She drives his arm down for a second time and he’s on the back foot once more.

 _“Fuck,”_ he huffs, as she stops with her left foot leaning, in a pose that she knows she could follow all the way to the wall if she continued to charge along the line she’s begun.

Rey watches a glare cross Ben’s face. She feels him tense and the power in his forearm that he’d eased off with earlier returns. She’s forced to re-grip, and in that instant he’s there to push hard against her upper blade again.

“Mistress,” he breathes, as she watches him begin to smile.

Ben twists his arm around and she has to disconnect from her hilt for a moment, to avoid slicing herself in half. Or maybe thirds. He lifts his weapon, bringing both hands to the crossguard, and when Rey catches hers again by its curved central pivot, he deactivates his blade and then, very slowly, passes the now dormant mouth of the saber across her neck.

“You had me,” she whispers, heart pounding.

Ben swaps the sleeping blade to his opposite hand and cups his palm gently around the back of her head with his dominant one.

“I _have_ you,” Ben corrects, his voice little more than a breath.

He kisses her mouth and Rey feels a thrum begin between her thighs as he opens hungry lips around hers. She feels his tongue lick at the curve of her lower lip as she sucks his upper one inside her. For several minutes they stand together, kissing in the middle of the chamber, her saber still lit and the hilt of his held casually in his non-dominant hand.

Rey can taste his inner mouth and the fragrance of his body muddled with the muted and faintly bitter scent of her lasers as they burn at her side. Her free hand seems to want to clutch at all the bare places of his torso as she tunes in and out to physical perceptions.

She feels her fingers sometimes at Ben’s lower belly and sometimes at his pecs. When they start to circle and tweak at his nipple he drops the hilt of his saber and brings his hand to her hip, pulling her to him as he slides his fingers down the back of her trousers.

Eventually Rey pulls her mouth gently away from his and gazes up into his dark, hooded eyes. Somehow the backs of his knees have made contact with the edge of the padded seat by the wall on which he’d sat and watched her for so long earlier, and she doubts very much that’s happened by chance.

Smiling, Ben begins to work one of his thighs between hers and she shifts her feet slightly, letting him rub himself there while feeling the bulge beneath his trousers becoming slowly more pronounced.

“What is it?” she asks, as Ben continues to eye her avidly.

“Not my lightsaber,” he murmurs, starting to grin.

“Ben, that is the lamest thing you have _ever_ said to me.”

“Well, what the fuck do you think it is?”

“I wasn’t talking about your _dick,_ Ben.”

“Why not?” he murmurs. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” she whispers, grinning, too, as he works his mouth beneath her hair to find the spot below her ear.

“Do you like it?” he breathes, before pressing his lips lightly to her skin.

“You know I like your dick, Ben,” she breathes.

He snorts softly through his nose.

“Not my dick, the _chamber,”_ he murmurs. “There’s space here to train.”

Rey’s stomach clenches, but she lets him continue his gentle work at her neck.

“I can sense something here, in you,” she murmurs. “You feel sad here.”

“Did you like Form VII?”

“Don’t change the subject, Ben…”

“Bringing my fury into your Darkness,” he murmurs.

“That’s Form VII?” she asks, slowly.

“I’ve got something you could bring into your darkness now, if you want,” he says, as she feels his palm close over the hand still clutching the hilt of her weapon.

“Oh, my fucking stars, Ben…” she says, unable now to keep from smiling.

“No, for real,” he says, bringing his face out from beneath her hair and smiling, too.

Ben applies pressure with his thumb to her own, and she hears the lasers of her weapon rescind as he slips its hilt from her hand and they both hear it land with a clatter.

“Here,” he continues, taking her now empty hand and pressing it to the bulge of his cock. “Take that, and you can put it wherever you want, I promise.”

Rey narrows her eyes and assesses him. His face is open. His eyes are bright and his jaw and lips are soft. She wants to indulge in the feel of his stiffening cock beneath her palm and feel her cunt pulse as she thinks about the hard length of Ben that she could then slide deep inside her, but when she senses for the sadness again it’s still there.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” she murmurs, as she gazes at him. “I can’t figure it out…”

He reaches a hand behind his back and from somewhere pulls out the collar he bought two nights ago on the moon, and Rey sighs.

“You are so infuriating, Ben,” she mutters, as he grins.

“I didn’t just bring you here to train, or to spar,” he repeats, handing the supple leather band to her.

She accepts it and watches as he sits down on the bench, knees spread. He tilts his chin up, adopting the same submissive pose as last night in the apartment when first she’d collared him.

But they aren’t in the apartment now, and things feel very different here. Rey pauses briefly, thinking carefully, before at last she speaks.

“I love you, Ben,” she says, plainly.

Then she unstraps the choker and places it around her own neck, and with deft hands fastens the buckle at the back as she hands him the soft leash.

“And by the end of this, you will have told me whatever it is you’re not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed and thanks for the continued support and feedback. More soon!


	72. The Way Things Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 18. Part 4 of 4. Ben.
> 
> Longer read.

_Ah, fuck,_ Ben thinks, reluctantly accepting in his hand the supple leather of the leash to the collar she’s chosen to wear.

He stares up at Rey as she strokes the tender skin of his gullet with gentle fingers. Sure, he’s holding the rein, but it’s very clear to Ben who’s dominating here as he swallows nervously and she stares down at him with eyes that he knows see right through his bullshit, to his anxious core.

 _Just fucking tell her,_ he thinks, as he feels the urge to bite down hard on his lower lip. _That’s why you’ve fucking brought her here, you useless shit._

Rey’s expression softens and her lips go slack. Ben knows she heard that and he blinks, still nervous but remaining stoically silent. She kneels between his open thighs and looks up at him with earnest eyes that send renewed thrills through every fiber in him.

Ben longs for her to relieve the tension he feels, and she could start by taking out his throbbing cock. Barely aware of doing it, he starts to pull with the cord in his hand and the slack lessens. When the rope straightens he feels only faint resistance as she’s drawn in gently to his lap.

His stomach flips as Rey’s hands move fluidly to the waistline of his trousers and she starts to undo him there as he lifts his gaze to the ceiling. Ben exhales with relief through his mouth as he feels the tension lessen and the cool air of the exercise chamber surround the throbbing heat of his erection when at last she frees it.

“Ben,” she whispers. “Look at me.”

He takes a deep breath and looks down. Her eyes are wide and she’s dropped her lower lip. Through the resultant gap he glimpses her bared lower teeth and his cock strains again. Gently, Ben pulls at the cord for a second time. Her eyes don’t leave his, even when her lips make contact with his glans. Ben relaxes his grip on the leash in his hand and Rey stops there to place a kiss at the head of him.

He pulls again on the leather and she leans in to lick around him gently. At last he relaxes, letting go of tension he’s been holding in his muscles for some time and breathing deeply as eventually she takes him inside the soft, warm interior of her mouth.

Sometimes he pulls at the leash, if he wants her to take him in deeper. At other times he slackens it and she eases off, but her eyes never leave his. Her hands steady him, especially when his hips want to thrust or shift; she moors him, and he needs that.

But frequently Ben brings the hand not holding the leash to the back of Rey’s head and strokes at her gently, needing to feel the soft texture of her hair. And more than once or twice he brings that hand to his philtrum to sniff at it, longing to immerse his face in its source; to find her skin, the font of the scent, and lick and suck at her body just like she does now to him.

Ben feels a familiar pressure building at the base of his cock as he starts to pulse. He brings the free hand to her chin, their eyes still locked, and gently eases her to the tip of his length, slicked from her wet mouth. He drops the leash and pulls himself back, resting his glans across her lowered lip as he watches his cum erupt in small gushes along her readied tongue, while her eyes remain faithful to his adoring gaze.

The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes is her swallow. Then his body caves in and Ben tips his head back to the wall as he senses her stand and then feels her begin to straddle him, as he sits in a state of total emotional destruction on the padded bench. Rey settles herself astride his hips and wraps her ankles around the back of him, his slaked cock nesting in her lap.

Many minutes pass just like that as Ben settles his chin over her shoulder and tilts his face inward to breathe in her scent as he closes his eyes and holds her against him. There’s still heat in his body but she’s warming his front and the flattened palms she rubs in small circular arcs across his back warm him from there, too, as he presses every inch of skin he can to her.

Ben feels himself drifting away. Sometimes he feels her hands pause across his bare back, and instead she runs fingers along the seams in the cowl that covers his shoulders. At other times she curls the fingers gently through his hair. He nestles his face to her neck and the tip of his nose touches the leather of the collar still around it.

Ben reaches up his hands and removes it, thinking again of the apartment on Nar Shaddaa as briefly he holds the choker in one hand and then tosses it onto the floor, as the supple leash attached follows and makes a sound like a soft whip when it lands.

“Rey?” he murmurs, eventually.

Shifting above him, she brings a hand to his cheek and nuzzles at his other with her own.

“Yes?”

“I can’t live without you anymore,” he whispers.

She shifts again and draws her face out to look at him.

“But you don’t,” she whispers back, smiling gently.

She brings her other hand to his face now and he closes his eyes for a moment in pleasure as her fingers caress his jaw.

“I don’t mean like this,” he says. “I mean…”

“What?” she urges, frowning. “Tell me.”

“You’re not really _here,_ Rey,” he murmurs.

“Here?”

“Yes, _here,”_ he breathes. _“With_ me.”

He stares at her. Then, as he swallows the bile that’s begun to rise in his throat, Ben senses her feel the doubts he’s been trying to conceal all night and find the truth at last.

“You’ve come back here, haven’t you?” she says, very slowly. “To the warship. You’ve come back here… home… to live.”

“It’s not a home,” he sighs, as his stomach clenches.

“But why...?”

“I only ever really left this for you. You don’t like it here. You’re reluctant to even stay here.”

“You won’t stay with me anymore, either... You left this for _us,_ Ben,” she urges. “For me, and for you.”

He sighs, feeling like shit now as he watches the sadness he feels creep its way into her as she sits patiently with him there, still fully clothed and astride his lap. He touches fingers to her neck where the collar has left her skin with the smallest indentation, and gently he rubs the faint mark away as his eyes flick from there, to her eyes, and back again.

“I can’t live there,” he murmurs, his eyes finding hers again.

“Of _course_ you can,” she says, leaning in and brushing the tip of her nose to his. “And, anyway, Ben, I saw _clothes_ there.”

“What?”

“In the wardrobe you had clothes, I _saw_ them, Ben,” she repeats, as though that fact somehow settled the matter.

“How do you know about that?” he asks, as his stomach pulls again.

“Because I looked,” she says, plainly. “After I put you to bed. When you were drunk, and you’d passed out and I tucked you in and I folded _these_ clothes...”

Rey touches her hands to the fabric of the cowl that wings his shoulders and arms.

“...And I was going to hang them up there for you,” she finishes, earnestly. “But it was already full of clothes, and they were _different_ clothes. They weren’t _these,_ and I thought…”

“They weren’t my clothes, Rey,” he concedes, beginning to feel ill again.

“What do you mean?”

“They weren’t my clothes,” he repeats, as he feels his throat growing tight. “They belonged to my father, Rey.”

“But they _could_ be yours, Ben,” she urges again. “They really _could_ be yours…”

“But they’re not mine, Rey,” he says, flatly. “They won’t ever be mine.”

She leans back and he watches her start to blink rapidly.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks, shifting his hands anxiously to her hips. _Please don’t fucking cry now._

“I don’t understand this,” she whispers. “I don’t understand why you’ve chosen this again, Ben…”

“I can’t leave, Rey.”

“Yes, you fucking can, you _fuck,”_ she hisses, as the tears begin to spill. “You just have to fucking _do it._ You just have to fucking _leave.”_

Ben bites down hard on his lower lip and then lets it go.

“I’m sorry,” he says, as he feels his eyes begin to brim. “I made a mistake…”

“But you’re _unhappy._ You know it, you _told_ me, Ben, in that fucking diner...”

“Who’s here if I leave?” he cuts, growing frustrated.

“Who the fuck cares?” she hisses back.

 _“You_ will.”

“No, I won’t. I won’t give a shit who’s here when you’re gone.”

 _“Fuck_ ing hell,” he curses, as his hands grip her hips for a moment before he lets go and then puts them to her again more softly, breathing hard; not wanting to release her but frustrated for a host of reasons, half of which he doesn’t know but one of which is definitely his own continuing inability to make a plan he can successfully execute. “Why do you always have to be so fucking _stubborn_ all the time?”

“Why do _I?”_ she says, acidly. “Why can’t you just fucking have some conviction for once in your life?”

 _“Conviction?_ _You’re_ accusing _me_ of having no conviction? That’s fucking _bullshit,_ Rey.”

She glares at him and he glares back. For several moments they remain like this, still sat together on the padded black bench in the exercise chamber as the cold, clinical air of the warship cycles artificially around them. At last, exhaling a huge breath in an effort to calm down, Ben tries again.

“When I’m gone, and some other sick, demented fuck is here instead,” he says, nearly having an aneurysm from the effort of saying what he wants to say now in a measured tone, “And I’m in some fucking apartment on a moon full of bounty hunters, hiding, what do a handful of Resistance fighters do?”

She remains quiet.

“What do they do, Rey?” he repeats.

“Shut up, Ben,” she says, quietly.

“Do you see now,” he murmurs, “Why I can’t leave?”

The tears begin to fall from her eyes now, and he has to avert his gaze, because he knows his eyes will befall the same fate if he looks at her for very much longer.

“If you care about it so much, Ben, then why in the fuck don’t you just help us?” she stammers.

“I’m trying to, Rey,” he whispers, still looking away.

 _“Look_ at me, Ben, when I’m talking to you,” she urges, gripping his face with both of her hands and forcing his eyes to hers. “You _don’t_ care.”

“That’s not true,” he murmurs.

“We have _nothing_ there. We haven’t grown. _No one_ is helping us, and you won’t either.”

“I do care,” he breathes, as hot tears prickle at the corners of his eyes and he tries to blink them back.

“You _don’t,”_ she snarls again. “And I’m rapidly losing the incentive as well.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Rey, it’s not fair.”

“Don’t tell me what to think, Ben, and what in the flying fuck would you even know about things in life that are in any way _fair?”_

“I’m not telling you what to think, Rey,” he hisses back. “You don’t need to be told what to _think._ Do you know what you _do_ need, though? Huh? Do you know, actually, what you _do_ fucking need?”

“What?” she snarls again.

“You need to be told what to _feel,_ Rey. _You’re_ the one who needs to start fucking caring, not me. _You.”_

“How _dare_ you,” she breathes. “How _dare_ you say… How _dare_ you imply… And why the fuck _should_ I care anyway, we’re not achieving fucking _anything_ there at the moment… _”_

“Because you care about my mother. And you _do_ care about her fucking _movement._ You care about the fucking Resistance, Rey, _that’s why.”_

“Well one of us has to,” she spits.

Ben notices now that he’s gripping her by the hips again and he lets go, his hands hovering above her. Her hands are clutched to the fabric of his cowl and her face is red, her cheeks slick with tears. They’ve started to fall down his own face, too; he can taste the salt of them when he licks at his lower lip as he bites at it again and then flinches, realizing that he must have been doing that for the whole time they’ve argued because the inner flesh is swollen and sore.

And then she’s there at his mouth with her lips pressed to him as her thumb works its way there, too. She brushes across the stinging flesh and kisses at him again, just softly. Ben feels the tightness around his eyes return and his vision blurs as new tears spill.

“It’s not that I don’t care, Rey,” he says, as he struggles to speak at all and his hands touch gently to her face. “It’s just that I know you do.”

“Ben, I care about _you,_ ” she whispers, as her fingers brush their way across his lower lip again, clearing the tears that continue to fall from his eyes. _“_ I _love_ you.”

“I love you, too,” he murmurs. “And it won’t change, no matter where I fucking am, Rey, but I can’t leave. And neither can you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know the Fischli and Weiss film, it's the above conversation in an art video, or that's how I think of it anyway... I tried linking to it (thx lunalunemoon) but if this doesn't work just google, its on youtube and its good/bad/good!
> 
> Thanks for the continued support for this fic. 3 nights remaining...


	73. Force-user

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 19. Part 1 of 2. Rey.
> 
> Longer read - this one got away!

It doesn’t smell good. She wishes she could take it to a sonic to wash it like that time with the blanket, when he’d made her go with him and she’d been really cold on the Falcon after it had rained. It hasn’t rained on Kashyyyk now for nights.

Rey lifts up her head, puts her weight to her forearm and flips the scrunched pillow with her other hand. Maybe the back smells better. Cautiously, she puts her nose to its surface and gives it a shallow sniff.

 _Urgh,_  she thinks.  _Maker, no._

Rey reaches a hand beneath the pillow and pulls from underneath it her carefully folded tunic. She likes to keep her clothes here. The weight of her head on them at night keeps them pressed. Plus, when her clothes are that close to where she rests her head they’re within easy reach if something were ever to happen. She thinks again of Ben’s head at rest on her pillow, and the clothes in the wardrobe on Nar Shaddaa, and her heart aches.

 _Don’t,_ she scolds.  _Don’t start it again._

Rey smooths the tunic across the miserable pillow, masking its sour smell. Then she lays her head across its scrunched surface again, but this time lies on her back and looks up at the three moons that orbit Kashyyyk as rainless clouds drift across them, indifferent to her plights of a moldy pillow and a maddening boyfriend. She frowns.

“Fuck you,” she whispers to all four of them, the moons and the man.

“Well, fuck you, too, and really nice language by the way. What the hell is wrong with you anyway? You’ve been a bitch all day, to be honest.”

Rey closes her eyes and turns her head to the perturbed sounds of Rose’s voice.

“Nothing,” Rey murmurs. “I just kind of need to be alone right now.”

“Sorry, Rey, but no way,” Rose whispers. “Get up.”

Glaring, but sensing something inevitable in all this, Rey throws off the blanket and reaches for the tunic, shrugging it on roughly. Then she pauses, still seated, and begins to glare down at her hands.

“I’m fucking serious Rey,” Rose hisses. “Get the fuck up off the ground. We’re walking, and you’re talking.”

Rey scowls up at her, but Rose stares patiently back.

“Just fucking do it,” Rose says, with an air that dares her not to.

Rey huffs, stands and whips on her trousers. As she straps on her belt and saber, and slips feet into her boots, she notices that Rose is already gone.

 _Good,_ Rey thinks.

She begins to slip off one boot but something stops her. She frowns at her feet.

 _So, really, that’s what you’re going to do now?_  she thinks to herself, disgusted by her own passive impulse.  _You’re just going to lie back down there on that fucking thing, beneath a sky that doesn’t give a shit about you, and continue to glare at it, as though that might change its mind? Is that really what you’re going to do now?_

Rey sighs.

“Well where the fuck did you go?” she whispers into the darkened jungle, turning and beginning to stomp away from the place where she usually sleeps, sensing for Rose.

They walk in silence for several hundred meters until it’s Rey who eventually speaks first.

“Do you know where you’re going?” she asks haughtily.

“Do _you_ know that I’m actually trying to do something nice for you here,” Rose replies, just as haughtily. “The least you could do in return is speak to me with a little bit of decency.”

Rey purses her lips and remains silent, still feeling annoyed at Rose for some reason that she doesn’t fully understand. Rose isn’t to blame for the feelings in her now, but she’s here. And it’s easier to blame what’s here than what isn’t.

“In answer to your question, no,” Rose continues. “I’ve never been this far in this direction before.”

“This leads to the Mysess Glade,” Rey says quietly.

Rey doesn’t look up from her feet, but senses Rose turn to look at her. Then Rey hears a branch snap and instinctively she reaches out a hand to grab hold of the arm Rose extends in an effort to rebalance, as she stumbles over the rest of the cluster of bracken she’s just blindly wandered straight through.

“Are you okay?” Rey asks, pausing and still gripping Rose by the upper arm as she finds her feet.

“Yeah, I’m just a clutz, that’s all,” she says, with a smile. “Good with pipes, not walks.”

Rey gives her a small smile in return and lets go of her arm.

“Maybe,” Rey offers, “I should lead?”

“That would be good,” Rose says, gratefully, as she waits for Rey to turn back in the direction they were headed before she’d stumbled.

“So, is that what it sounds like?” Rose asks.

Rey senses.

“The Mysess Glade?”

“Yeah,” Rose answers.

“Yes,” Rey says, treading slower than she normally would so that Rose doesn’t fall behind. “But it’s special and we can’t gather them or walk through it. Only stop at the edge. It’s sacred.”

“Did Chewie tell you this?”

“No,” Rey says in a small voice, before going silent again.

“Oh,” Rose says quietly.

Rey swallows thickly.

“That’s where he took you, isn’t it?” Rose says, gently. “That time you told me about? The date?”

Rey feels tears begin to collect at the corners of her eyes and she’s glad she’s walking in front of Rose now, so that Rose can’t see when one of them gets so heavy it falls and begins a slow and chaotic trickle down the side of Rey’s cheek. She swallows several times to clear her throat, not wanting Rose to hear the emotion she feels now when she answers.

“Yes,” Rey says, but her voice does give just the faintest of cracks and she senses Rose hear it, and frown in sympathy.

 _Fuck,_  Rey thinks to herself, her head still back at the camp and reluctant to talk.

They walk on silently for several more minutes. As the trees begin to clear, Rey senses very purposefully for Bantha. Instinctively, she reaches for the hilt of her saber, secured at her hip in the crude hide pouch she’d made for it three days ago.

Then she can’t help but think again of Ben, who would probably laugh at her at first but then throw a big arm across her shoulders and pull her close. And she’d forget all about it when he’d somehow calm her down, just like he’d done when they’d been here together, nights ago now. When she’d still had hope that maybe…

“Rey?”

At some point she’s stopped walking. She’s standing in the middle of a grass-covered clearing that she recognizes. It is the spot where she and Ben had seen the pair of Bantha, and she’d wished she’d had a saber. That wish had come true, perhaps she should have wished then for…

“You’re upset.”

Rey shakes her head and turns her face to the sound of Rose’s gentle voice as she feels her touch a hand to her wet cheek, and then draw it away. Rey swallows as she feels more hot tears begin to collect, and then they start to pour down her face.

When Rose puts her arms around her, Rey cries into her shoulder for minutes as she lets her grief for Ben fill her heart, a thing she’s been pushing away all day but which she no longer has the energy to do.

“It’s okay, Rey,” Rose whispers, as Rey’s chest continues to heave until at last it feels like there are no tears left, and she pulls herself away.

She gives an enormously wet sniff, turns away and wipes her nose with the back of her forearm before sniffling again.

“Sorry,” she chokes, still turned away from Rose as she wipes at her cheeks to clear them of more tears with her other forearm and then moves off. “It’s this way.”

She senses Rose hesitate to follow, but then change her mind and hurry to catch up. Rey slows her pace, but doesn’t stop or turn, and they walk on in silence until, even through sniffles, Rey smells the unmistakable scent of Mysess on the air and knows they’re nearly there.

Rey slows and senses Rose when she, too, reaches the place where the last Wroshyrs of the Kkowir Forest grow and give way to the glade. And they both stare out together at the grey sea of blossoms, eyes fixed on the eerily shadowed center.

“Rey, what is that?” Rose murmurs, her voice laced with caution and fear, Rey can feel it.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Rey says, calmly, as her voice begins to clear of the after effects of tears. “It’s just the Great Tree.”

Rey senses Rose look at her and at last Rey turns to look back.

“Could we sit down?” Rey asks.

“Of course,” Rose whispers, as she waits for Rey to sit first and then copies her as Rey continues to sense the nervousness in Rose.

Rey takes a very deep breath and looks out at the dark place.

“He told me a story here,” she starts shakily, as she clenches her stomach.

“What kind of story?”

“It was like a bedtime story.”

“Like a fairytale?”

“Yes,” Rey says, still staring out at the dark inside the grey. “I can’t remember it all…”

She frowns.

“That’s okay,” Rose says gently.

“But I do remember,” she continues, sensing for Ben and the echo of his words when they’d been here, “He said to come here. Or, _it_ said.”

“The story?”

“Yes,” she says slowly as she starts to sense again, trying to piece together the phrases he’d spoken then, but they only come to her in fragments. _“During dark hours… Go there and feel light.”_

“But there’s only darkness here, Rey,” Rose says, as Rey feels her nerves again. “There’s no light, although I guess if it was daytime…”

“It’s not about that,” Rey interrupts, turning her gaze away from the glade and looking instead at Rose.

“What?” Rose frowns.

“It’s not about that kind of light.”

Rey turns back to the glade, and it isn’t grey now.

“It’s about _hope,”_ she murmurs, as the whole phrase returns and Rey stares at a vision of a colored glade. _“It grows alone, to lift hope and spirits, during dark hours to those who seek it out. And if you are alone, and hope is lost to you, go there and feel light.”_

“Holy shit…” Rose says, as Rey senses her stare out into the glade again. “That’s _beautiful…”_

Rey smiles.

“He really fucking said that to you?” Rose asks, turning in to face her as Rey mirrors the action.

“Yes,” she says. “But it’s just from the story…”

“But he _said it_ to _you,”_ Rose urges, smiling. “It’s like a _poem,_ Rey…”

Rey feels her smile falter and Rose reaches out a hand to clasp Rey’s fingers gently.

“He’s upset you, hasn’t he?” she asks, softly.

“Yes.”

 _“Why?_ What happened?”

Rey takes another very deep breath and feels her stomach turn.

“He… lives somewhere.”

“It’s on Nar Shaddaa, isn’t it?” Rose says, quickly. “That’s why he was planning to take you there that time…”

“No,” Rey urges. “That’s the thing, he’s _not_ living there, he’s gone _back.”_

“Back _where?”_

Rey sucks in her lower lip and frowns.

“He’s… Rose I _can’t say,”_ she says. “I _can’t.”_

“Why did he go back?” Rose asks, and Rey breathes a sigh of relief at the sudden shift in the focus of her questioning.

“Because he thinks it’s what I want,” she says. “But it’s not.”

“So, what do you want?”

“I want him to stay on the Smuggler’s Moon.”

“And that’s all?” Rose ask gently, leaning back. “You just would prefer him to live where you want him to?”

Rey frowns. Is that a trick question? Rey senses that it is and so she doesn’t answer it.

“Because, Rey, if that’s the only reason then that’s a bit…”

“I’m _not_ being selfish,” she cuts, frowning. “He’s _unhappy._ He _told_ me. But he can’t leave there, and I can’t tell you why.”

“Okay,” Rose says calmly, leaning in again. “So, you want him to leave wherever he is because he… _can’t_ leave wherever he is for some reason?”

“Yes,” Rey says, nodding, and watching Rose frown. “So what should I do?”

Rose sighs.

“Oh, Rey…” she starts, “You can’t live other people’s lives for them…”

“He’s _unhappy,_ Rose,” she urges. “And it’s _dangerous_ where he is…”

“And it’s _not_ dangerous on the _Smuggler’s Moon?”_ Rose parries. “Rey, that’s a pretty fucking dangerous place…”

“It’s not half as dangerous as where he is now, Rose, trust me.”

Rose gives a low whistle.

“Fuck, Rey, how do you get yourself into these messes?”

Rey sucks at her lower lip again.

“What should I do?” she repeats.

“Oh, boy, okay, let me think…” Rose sighs. “So, why doesn’t he want to live on the moon again? Did you already tell me that?”

“Because he can’t leave where he is,” Rey says. “I did tell you that.”

“But, Rey…” Rose starts again. “People can and do live in more than one place, did you know that?”

“What? No, they don’t.”

“Of _course_ they do,” Rose says, nodding patiently.

“Well, what are you saying?”

“What I’m saying, Rey,” she continues, “Is that maybe all he needs is for someone to _tell him that.”_

“That people can live in more than one place?”

 _“Yes,”_ Rose says, nodding again. “Because if he’s anything like you, he thinks in absolutes but seriously, Rey, most people _don’t_ think like that.”

“They don’t?”

 _“No,”_ Rose says, smiling gently. “Honey, they _don’t.”_

“Well, maybe I should try to… plan something there with him, then,” she says, slowly. “Like, he’s planned things with me but I’ve never really done that for him...”

“That would be really sweet,” Rose says, her smile broadening. “Like, you know, just something simple, it doesn’t have to be a big deal or anything…”

“And, then, maybe… if he had a good time he might like it better, and we could talk about the…”

“Absolutes.”

“Yeah. Those.”

Rey puts her thumb to her mouth and chews on her nail, feeling a lightness in her stomach that she hasn’t felt all day.

“Thanks, Rose,” Rey whispers, grinning.

Rose rolls her eyes and sighs.

“Good luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the continued support for this fic, means a lot x


	74. Domestic God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 19. Part 2 of 2. Ben.

_No, no, maybe…_

Yeah, that one sort of does look like Rey if he squints his eyes and turns the palm-sized viewscreen sideways.

Ben lies bare on the bed in his chambers and stares at the image of the half-naked dancer for several moments longer before flinging the holopad aside. This is a new low, and there’ve been many, so that’s really saying something.

He closes his eyes and thinks about her again as he runs a palm down the right-hand side of his lower abdomen, easing off until his own touch feels like hers when she does this, all the way along to the top of his thigh and then back again just as slowly.

He remembers how she’d looked in the collar as he’d pulled her to his lap by the leash last night while he’d sat on the bench with her knelt between his thighs. Ben’s hand moves again across the path from his lower abs and down past the firm contour edging his pelvis.

Maybe he and Rey could watch porn together sometime. After all, she’s into kinky stuff, too. Like the sensua bindings; they’d been her idea. And the collar; that’d been her idea, too.

He inhales and his hand finds his cock, remembering the diner, where she’d worn the bindings and he’d worn the leash. Rey said she walked him back to the apartment that night, but Ben can barely remember it. She’d felt so sad recounting it. Is she still sad? Should he reach out and ask?

Ben feels guilty, and responsible, and he misses her. As he pulls at his cock he begins to feel sad because jerking off is no longer a satisfactory substitute for her; he just needs her here. But he’d been right last night; she doesn’t want to be here so this’ll just have to do, unless he leaves again.

He should have just shown her Form VI and left it at that. Not told her anything; just pretended that he hadn’t gone anywhere. But she’d figured it out of him, like she always did, with her fucking lightsaber and her mouth and her eyes. They were the worst, her eyes. He was the worst sucker for those, especially when she cried, and for her frown. He doesn’t understand why, but when she frowns…

Ben tugs harder and thinks again about her frown and her crying eyes and he feels himself building fast. His hand works at a furious pace as he looks down at his cock and his flying wrist and his whole body tenses. He imagines her now with her open mouth, ready to catch his cum as she’d done last night, and he tenses again.

 _“Fuck,”_  he breathes.

Ben feels himself pulse and watches a very small jet escape him and land stickily in the soft dark curls of hair that fringe the base of him. He exhales and lies back, milking the few lonely drops that remain before reaching for the rag he keeps in his drawer.

He rolls to his side and thinks again about the way she’d held him last night in the exercise chamber. How she’d smelled and felt beneath his hands after she’d blown him. His eyes are moist now as he reaches down to flick the bedding over himself. He doesn’t want to wash, but he doesn’t want to sleep either. He wants to see and hold her.

He considers reaching out, but he can hear her already.

 _Where are you?_ she’d say.

 _Does it matter?_ he’d reply.

 _Yes,_ she’d say. _You know it does._

Ben sighs. It had been fairly straightforward to plan a two-night trip to Nar Shaddaa, and he supposes he could do it again. But he could definitely not make a habit of it; it would have to be just another visit. It would definitely _not_ be a move.

Maybe he could invite Rey there to watch porn? Or something on HoloNet? Not Channel 1 though, that’s way too mainstream and she’d hate that. Maybe they could watch a pirate channel. Something anti-establishment. Or maybe she’d like podracing. That was mainstream though, and it probably wasn’t that romantic either. Does she still think he’s romantic?

Maybe podracing isn’t _romantic_ as such, but it could be because, after all, Ben likes it and he senses Rey likes flying; but he’s never actually asked her that, either. Does she like it or is she just good at it? And if she does like it, does that mean she likes space, too, or just the flying? Maybe he _should_ do it now, just reach out, and ask...

 _Make a fucking decision,_ he thinks to himself, as he rolls over.

If she likes space, too, as well as flying, maybe he could just tune in to a live feed from the galaxy; order a fleet ship to somewhere nice like the Kaliida Nebula and make them set him up a vidstream, because that’s a beautiful part of the galaxy in Ben’s opinion, and maybe she’s never seen it and would like to. Rey does like beautiful things, like the Mysess Glade. And she’d seemed to like the topaz stones, too.

Ben sighs and rolls over again.

Rey seems to like planets, and the things that come from them. Ben’s seen most planets. Which are the most beautiful? Which would she like the most? Takodana’s nice, but that’s out of the question; he’s thought about taking her back there before, and ruled it out.

But would it be nice to live feed from there? Or still weird? Maybe he could order a fighter to dock on the surface and set up a vidstream for him...

 _She really likes food,_ he thinks, as his stomach growls and he remembers the berries, and then thinks once more of the diner.

She’d said more than once she ate everything. What did she eat at the diner again? A Gorba Melt? Ben can’t cook, but he could probably make that.

 _Yeah, fuck it,_  he thinks to himself, as he rolls to his back and gazes up, imagining.  _Maybe I could just cook her some food._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well if that's not a set-up, what is?? lol  
> 2 nights to go, we're nearly there..!  
> Thanks for the continued support for this fic, much appreciated x


	75. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 20. Part 1 of 3. Rey.

It hadn’t been easy to leave him alone two nights ago on the warship. In fact after they’d fought in his chambers, she’d spent a long time there just holding Ben and not able to let him go.

It had felt awful to fight like they had, with words that still hurt as they echo again now through her head in Ben’s voice. Is the same thing still happening to him? Are her words, in her voice, still hurting?

Rey lies on her scrunched pillow now, looking up at the moonless sky. She extends her arms up to it, spreading her fingers and imagining the chewed nails at their tips are the stars she can’t see because Kashyyyk tonight is covered by a dense cloud.

In his chambers she’d spread her hands wide across Ben’s bare back as he’d cried, as though she could hold it in; all that sorrow he’d felt, Rey had felt too, but she’s grown used to tears. Ben hasn’t.

There was a time she remembers, not so long ago, when Ben couldn’t cry. She remembers how he’d felt at those times, like a stalled ion drive or perhaps it was just the big cat thing again, with its soft image displaced by a frightening actuality of muscle and power.

But in the end, she’d sensed the sun beginning to rise on Kashyyyk, and Rey had no choice but to go, even though she hadn’t wanted to. She never did. Mornings were the worst, and they’d been like that now for nearly three standard weeks; they were almost as bad as the nights.

Last night, when Rey had returned with Rose to the camp, in the deep of the night with a plan, it had been hard to lie here and try to sleep. Rey had thought about Ben for the rest of the hours until the dawn had finally come. Even so, staying away for the rest of that night had nevertheless felt right.

Rey lies on her scrunched pillow now, belly only half full, and tunes in to Ben. Like last night, as she’d sat on the edge of the glade with Rose, she can feel Ben there now on the fringes of her mind; not blocking, but not reaching out either. It’s as though he’s waiting for her to connect and he is, she feels it in him, and she knows why.

Ben thinks she won’t go to the warship again, and he’s right; she’s done there. Unless of course what he asked about nights ago now ever happens; if he was ever in trouble, Rey would be there with him in a heartbeat. But that’s not what’s going on now.

Ben is okay now, he’s just not great, she can feel it. And besides, Rey knew she would sense that kind of trouble in Ben when it happened – if it happened – but she also knew that if he was in that kind of trouble he wouldn’t passively wait on the edges of her consciousness. He knows now she cares for him – she thinks she probably always will – and Ben knows now he can ask her for that kind of help. She’s given him that permission.

He’s waiting there now because she’s left him no choice, but now Rey has a choice for Ben.

 _Time for the plan,_ she thinks to herself, as at last she reaches out and senses through the Force, but when she finds him, Rey frowns.

_What the fuck are you doing?_

_Hey,_  he thinks. _No peeking._

 _I miss you, too,_  she thinks back wryly, as she feels Ben somehow block the visual, but he’s still there, at the edge of her mind.

 _I do miss you,_  he thinks back. _You know I do._

 _Where are you?_  she thinks.

 _Does it matter?_  he replies.

 _No,_  she thinks back.  _We can still do this, no matter where you are._

_Just talking?_

_Yes,_ she thinks. _It’s not the same as going there._

_Are you still up?_

_No, I went early._

Rey feels him lift the block he’s had on her visual and she sees him smile and reach out a hand, but she catches it.

 _Don’t come here,_  she warns, gently.  _You don’t have to this time._

 _Why not?_  he thinks back.

_Because I want to ask you something._

_I’m listening._

_Would you like to do something? With me?_

Rey feels his fingers clasp hers but he’s still largely image, and the connection’s not strong enough yet for her to see his surroundings. She doesn’t yet know where he is.

 _Are you asking me out?_  he thinks back, still smiling.

“I’m asking you in,” she whispers. “Will you stay in with me, Ben?”

He grins.

 _Have you eaten?_  she hears him think, still just through the bond.

“Yes, but only a bit,” she whispers back. “It was  _flarion…”_

 _But you said you eat everything,_  he teases.

“I didn’t say I didn’t eat it, I just don’t like it very much so I only ever eat what I need of it,” she mutters, quietly, frowning again. “And anyway, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to stay in, and maybe get something, but you’d need to…”

Ben still has a hold of her fingers. He begins to pull her gently in that familiar way he does when he wants to guide her somewhere, like he’d done two nights ago to lead her to the exercise chamber.

“Ben, I want to talk to you about…”

“I need you to close your eyes,” he murmurs. “I want to show you something, Rey.”

 _Fateful words,_  she thinks to herself, and grimaces, but she does it.

Eyes shut, Rey feels his mouth press to her lips and smells the scents of air, plants before rain, and then Mysess…

 _Holy fucking shit,_  she thinks, as she feels her stomach lurch.  _You didn’t…_

Rey lets her own mouth explore Ben’s slowly as she feels his hands gently tilt her backwards to something soft, but it isn’t bedding, and when she opens her eyes the ceiling of the apartment is lit with warm, nebulous hues that send haloes across its surface. Shadows ebb at their edges as spheres of light bounce and flicker softly.

Ben pulls his mouth away and she looks up into his dark eyes as they reflect the candle lights.

“Surprise,” he murmurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for the continued support for this fic.  
> 6 chapters to go...  
> xx


	76. Entree And Main

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 20. Part 2 of 3. Ben
> 
> Longer smut read. Hope you enjoy it!

He watches carefully. Rey’s hazel eyes dampen at first but then, to Ben’s relief, they clear and she smiles. He lowers his gaze back to her mouth as she reaches up and pulls him down by the back of his neck to kiss him once more. He opens his mouth around hers, sliding his tongue into its soothing depths.

Ben indulges himself there for many minutes, feeling for her hair and spreading it absentmindedly across the surface of the albino surepp blanket he’s thrown across the apartment's sofa, on which they now lie.

The blanket had been hard to acquire, and he hopes she likes the way it feels below her as much as he does. He opens his eyes to watch Rey again as hers close. Ben’s stomach flips at the thought she’s been watching him and he licks at her tongue again lazily. He could stay here forever, just on the sofa, fuck everything else he’s planned; this might do just fine.

“Do you like it?” he asks eventually, as after many more minutes of kissing he pulls his mouth away gently.

“When did you do all this?” she whispers, turning her gaze again to the candles as he sees her notice the clusters of Mysess, too, that he’s scattered in several places in a random variety of glassware he’d found by chance in the kitchenette’s cupboards.

“Today,” he says, smiling.

Ben feels her hands at his chest and his stomach flips at her touch.

“What are you _wearing?”_ she asks, when her hands trace over the cotton of his black, low-cut V-neck.

She slides her fingers beneath the open front to the skin of his chest.

“Clothes,” he says, still smiling.

“This,” she says slowly, as he feels her sense, “Is definitely _not_ from the wardrobe.”

He grins.

“Ben, you _bought_ clothes?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, grinning now as he leans back and comes to rest on a forearm, still trailing his hand through her strewn hair.

“Do you wanna wash and then eat, or eat and then wash?”

“What?” she asks, blinking and faintly shaking her head as though she’s just been somewhere far, far away.

“I got a ‘fresher installed in the en suite,” he adds, quietly. “I’ve already had, like, three showers in it today.”

Rey snorts.

“And you say _I’m_ filthy,” she quips.

“You _are,”_ Ben murmurs, still gazing down at her and running his palm along her body, minimally concealed by just her underclothes. “You’re really, _really_ dirty.”

 _“You’re_ the one with the filthy mind, Ben, not me,” she says, with a grin.

“Oh, no,” he says slowly, as he brings his hand to her forehead and gently brushes his knuckles across her closest temple. “There’s plenty of smut in _there,_ too…”

She winks at him and his stomach flips again.

“Ben, these pants are so fucking _soft,”_ she murmurs, as he feels her run a hand down one of his thighs, and then around to the back to squeeze at his firm arse. “Stand up. I need to see you in them properly.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he says, as he shifts himself off the sofa, and Rey sits up to watch.

“Holy shit, you look _hot_ in those,” she says, grinning again.

He can’t help but notice that her gaze has fixed itself shamelessly at the bulge of his cock in the pearl-grey, slim fit joggers, cuffed at the ankles and ribbed by black quilting at the knees.

“Turn,” she whispers, lifting a hand and circling her finger mid-air in a twirling gesture as he rolls his eyes, but does it anyway.

Ben knows he can’t go anywhere in clothes like this and besides, there’s nothing wrong with the ones that he already wears daily; if those clothes really trouble Rey while she's here in the apartment then he supposes he could just pad around here naked without any fuss; she definitely wouldn’t mind that.

But when he’d seen them today, in Nar Shaddaa’s amenities district, they’d just looked soft and warm and when he’d put his fingers to the fabrics they’d felt the same way. Now, they just feel good to wear; they’re nothing more or less than just nice against his skin.

“Just wear those pants forever, okay?” she murmurs, as her eyes rake over him again with that far away look from earlier. “Until I need you to take them off.”

He laughs.

“They’re fucking comfortable, I like them,” he admits. “I will never wear them anywhere but here, though.”

Rey says nothing in response, and his dogmatic statement hangs awkwardly in the air as Ben unzips the pockets at either side of his hips and buries his hands deep inside them, feeling the warm fuzz of the fabric kiss at his skin.

“Oh, that looks good, too…,” she murmurs, her eyes still on his package as the light-toned fabric pulls taut across his cock, and she leaves the sofa in something of a trance.

She runs one hand low around his hips and the other cups his sheathed balls as she squeezes gently at them while rubbing his length lightly with the heel of her palm and still staring at his groin, as Ben feels himself stiffening below her touch. Vaguely, he hears his own breath deepen. He removes the hands he’s placed in his pockets and slides them round her waist.

“Let’s wash,” he murmurs. “And then I’ll cook you something.”

“You’ll _what_ me something?” she breathes, as she gazes up at him, her eyes wide and tempting.

 _“Cook,_ if I ever get to the kitchenette,” he murmurs, grinning, lowering his mouth to hers while she lifts to kiss him. “But that’s looking doubtful…”

Ben leads her by the hand to the ‘fresher and then Rey begins to undress him, working the V-neck over his head and sliding the waistband of the joggers to his ankles. When his feet pull themselves from the cuffed lengths of the pants he kicks them away, thinking now of undressing her, but she’s already kneeling between his feet.

“This is entrée,” she whispers, through a barely concealed snort as she pulls him by the hips to her mouth. “I’m washing _and_ eating, are you impressed?”

Ben shakes his head at her in mild disbelief as she grins up at him.

“I told you,” he murmurs, while she puts her hands to his already semi-hard dick and begins to kiss along his length. “Your mind is _way_ filthier than mine.”

He props a hand against the wall as the other toys with the hair at the back of her head and her tongue starts to lick along him. As he tenses the muscle, increasing his length and watching himself grow ever bigger before her mouth, he remembers they’re in the ‘fresher; he should probably turn it on.

“Moderate hot,” he sighs to activate it, while she seals her lips over his glans and he closes his eyes.

Warm water begins to beat at Ben’s chest and he starts to thrust softly into her mouth as Rey tilts her head up to meet his gaze. The eye contact sets him off again and his breathing grows heavy, jaw dropping. Rougher than he means to, he pushes her head down on him as she takes him in deeper, still cupping at his balls. He feels her slide her palm away from her own body, and then with a finger she teases at his rim as her cheeks hollow out when she draws the head of his cock inside her mouth hard, before easing off.

 _“Fuck,”_ he exhales, as the water continues to beat at his chest, sending small rivers down him while she sucks.

Nothing much goes through Ben’s head now as Rey presses her tongue flat to his glans and starts to rub at him, as the hand not teasing at his rim grips at his thickened shaft and moves swiftly along it. The anxieties he’d felt last night, and even today, are forgotten, familiarly lost in the pleasure she brings so generously to his body, typical of all these recent nights.

He’d worried earlier, when she was still on Kashyyyk, that she might say no to this. Her refusals still catch in the traps of his mind with a great deal more permanence than the acceptances, even though by now she’s said yes to him more times than he ever thought she would, a fact which flies in the face of what he sometimes still seems to believe; that Rey still doesn’t trust him. But she does, and as he watches her work on his cock that elusive thought sticks.

“I’m gonna come in your mouth,” he pants, as her hand skiffs faster along his cock and Ben tugs on her hair, again with more force than he means to, pulling her back like he’d done with the leash so he can watch her catch him.

Ben’s glutes clench and his hips thrust forward as he pulls her mouth further back, off his length, and begins to pulse as he watches the thin jets of his cum pool on her tongue while wide eyes blink up at him, and his knees grow weak.

“Oh _fuck,”_ he breathes out coarsely again, as he leans to the wall for support when she swallows, then Rey stands and lifts her arms up and around his neck, smiling as Ben buries his face in her wet shoulder.

She still wears her undergarments, which are saturated now as Ben starts to work them off her. When the last one falls to the floor of the ‘fresher he reaches for the trillium soap as her jaw drops.

 _“Actual_ soap?” she breathes, while Ben turns her around and starts to lather it up across her back.

“You know this is from Kashyyyk, right?” he murmurs, surprised.

“Yeah, and you know how hard it is to get?” she ripostes. “I think we’ve only ever had it once, and it lasted for, like, one day because Chewie is so fucking _hairy...”_

Ben snorts.

“So, that’s why the Mysess, huh?”

“I love Mysess,” she breathes, as he reaches forward and pulls her body in to his.

“I know,” he says quietly, as he begins to soap her breasts, rubbing the tip of his thumb across the slickened nipples as she leans back against him.

Ben’s other palm fondles her arse, curving around one still slippery cheek as he slides a well-lubed finger to the front of her cunt from behind and gently teases it along her seam, sensing. She sighs.

“Rey?” he says softly, thinking about her finger near his rim earlier as she’d held the head of his cock tenderly in her mouth.

“Mm?”

“Do you… want me to…?”

“Yes,” she barely says above a whisper, as Ben feels her lean further back against his chest and he leans forward, so his mouth can reach the notch of her neck.

He runs his left hand backwards along her for a second time, and feels the breath hitch in her throat.

“You’ll tell me, though, if…?” he breathes, into her ear.

“Yes,” she murmurs, as she pushes back with her hips against him, curving her spine, as he moves his right hand forwards and settles the pads of two fingers softly to the button of her clit.

When Ben touches the tip of his soaped lefthand finger to her smallest hole, he feels her push herself back further.

“Relax,” he whispers again into her ear, as very slowly he begins to slide the finger inside her, feeling the smooth lube of the soap facilitate the glide as she pushes out again and then he stops, just beyond his first knuckle.

Her breath hitches again as he starts to rub the pads of the two righthand fingers over her clit in quick, light circles as he hears her breathing resume and then become a pant. Her lathered breasts rise and fall heavily below the gaze he still has fixed down the front of her body, while his chin rests just above her shoulder.

Ben presses his mouth to her neck as he feels her clench around his finger, pulsing as she begins to come. He seals his lips to her neck and sucks her skin in as she gasps and her whole body shakes as she goes slack against him.

He slips his right hand from her clit to her cunt and feels the cream of it coating her well beyond her entrance as he slides his fingers inside her satined walls. When she tightens them around him, still pulsing from her climax, slowly he begins to withdraw the finger he’s had inside her smallest hole.

“Relax,” he breathes again, as both his hands leave her and she turns herself around in his arms, bringing her palms to the back of his neck and brushing her open mouth in a kind of vague stupor around his, still panting heavily as her wide and adoring eyes bore into him.

He grins at her and reaches for the soap again but she takes it from him, rubbing it over his hands first before placing them back on her body.

“That was the main course,” she murmurs, her voice still breathy.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, as his eyes gaze lovingly down at her, watching as she starts to rub the trillium soap into a lather across his shoulders and chest. “I haven’t even opened the Toniray yet.”

“That’s got bubbles, right?” she says happily, looking up and lifting her face to peck at his mouth before lowering her soaped hands to the soft dark curls at the base of his cock.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “And if we ever get out of this fucking ‘fresher, I’ll pour you a glass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5 posts remaining...


	77. Dessert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 20. Part 3 of 3. Rey.

Rey grins and pecks him on the mouth as she washes the last of the soap from beneath Ben’s jaw. Then he shuts off the ‘fresher and they move to the sonic. She kicks her sodden garments inside to dry them too, and when the cycle of air finishes he pulls on his joggers and pads from the en suite.

“Rey?” he calls, as she pulls on her underclothes and follows his voice to the bedroom’s entrance.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, guiding her through the next few steps until he stops and turns her shoulders. “Okay, now you can look.”

He’s laid it out on the bed. An A-line dress with a deep V-neck. But it’s not the simplicity of the cut so much as the honesty of the color which captivates her now; a verdant green, almost like chlorophyll, in a plain weave made from fine cotton that reflects the glow of the candles he’s arranged in the bedroom.

Their warm light makes the fabric vivid; the color of something new, or something that’s refreshed, like plants after rain or just before it.

“You don’t have to wear it,” he mutters.

“Would _you_ like to?” she teases, holding it against his chest.

“It reminded me of you,” Ben murmurs. “Do you like it?”

Rey glides her free palm down it.

“Yes,” she breathes, as he takes it. “The color reminds me of something…”

She turns and Ben drops it over her head. It shimmies down her form and the straps settle at her shoulders. She faces the mirrored sliding doors of the closet behind them.

She’s never worn a dress and it’s strange to see herself in one now; she doubts she’ll make a habit of this. Even so, noticing the length fall to her mid thighs and the green emphasize the hazel in her eyes, there’s something about it that feels good now.

When she's poised like this, the fabric falls about her hips in soft waves. When she moves, the cut flares from the top like something born of air. Rey turns to face Ben, smoothing it down and looking up. He takes a small step towards her.

“It’s got pockets, see?” he says, as though needing to explain the practicality of such an impractical garment to someone who’s never worn one.

Ben reaches inside them and shifts his pocketed palms to the curves of her arse.

“You can put stuff in them.”

“Like what?” she asks. “A lightsaber?”

Ben laughs as she stands on her toes to kiss him.

 _I do like it,_ she thinks, still kissing. _Thank you._

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, after pulling his mouth away. “Come on, I’ll pour you a drink.”

Withdrawing his hands from her pockets, he leads her to the kitchenette. Two glasses and a tall shapely bottle wait on the narrow island bench. She sits there and watches him pop the cork from the top with practised hands. Then he lifts one glass between his two middle fingers, tilts it, and pours the teal-colored wine into the elegant flute before setting it down in front of her.

“You’ve done that before,” she says accusingly, watching Ben collect the second flute.

He smiles.

“No, I just notice things. My parents used to drink this shit on special occasions.”

“Ben, honestly,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Way to kill the mood.”

He sets down the bottle.

“Toast?”

“To killing the mood,” she says, touching his glass in a soft clink before they both sip.

“Wow,” Rey murmurs. “That’s nice.”

“It’s from Aldaraan.”

 _“Aldaraan?”_ she frowns. “You don’t mean like…?”

“Yeah,” he says, with an air of arrogance. “I got you the best. I mean, you can still buy the cheap shit but that’s just a sparkling blue. It’s only Toniray if it came from Aldaraan. It’s rare.”

It still exists in him, the propensity to elevate himself. Rey thinks it’s something to do with anxiety, at levels in Ben which have been so high for so long now, but which also seem to have eased recently, or is it just they’ve eased around her?

She frowns and takes another sip of wine from the flute in her hand. Ben’s gone quiet. He probably heard all that as it went through her head. She notices him reach for the bottle again and her frown deepens.

“Do you wanna watch something on the holoscreen?” he asks, repeating the careful pour again. “I’ve got Channel 1, we could watch podracing. Or there’s these…”

Glass in hand, he pads from the bench to the screen on the wall and activates it while Rey observes him silently.

“Do you know this?” he asks, looking at her and swiping to the live feed.

“No,” she says slowly, puzzled by the cloudy vermillion hues drifting across the screen. “What is it?”

“It’s just a view of space,” he replies. “I thought it was kind of nice, but if you’re not into it…”

He swipes the screen again.

“I set up another feed from the forest on Takodana, but that might be weird, I don’t know… Is it?”

Ben trails off and Rey stares at the green moss of the forest’s rocks; the color of her dress. Leaving her glass on the kitchenette’s bench she crosses the floor. When he’s near, she puts her palms flat to his bare chest and feels it rise and fall rapidly.

“Ben, what the _fuck?”_ she asks, looking up into his dark, nervous eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

Rey shifts her hands, one to the scar on his righthand side and the other to his cheek, stroking it gently with her thumb.

“You just seem really _anxious,”_ she says. “You know, if you want me to go, I will…”

“Why would I want you to go?”

“I don’t know…”

Rey sighs again.

“Remember before? When I was still on Kashyyyk? And I reached out to you?”

“Yeah…”

“And I asked you if you wanted to stay in with me?”

“Yeah, but I’d already planned _this…”_

“I know that _now,”_ she says, gently. “And I love it, Ben, _really_ I do, but there’s things I want to talk to you about and I just thought that here, we might be able to…”

“You’re not enjoying this?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Ben.”

“It’s too much?”

“It’s not too much.”

“You think I’m…”

“No,” she says firmly, as Ben drains the glass in his hand.

“You do, I heard you think it before.”

 _“Ben,”_ Rey says, sternly. “I’m going to order us food. You… _we_ can’t just drink all night on empty stomachs.”

 _“Order_ something though?” he says, his face falling.

“Yeah, you know, get something delivered,” she says, trying to brighten him. “I noticed the other night, when we were at the diner, they do that at the Meltdown. Deliver stuff. You could get that pie that you like, and those weird fries with the fruit sauce.”

“But I wanna cook for you,” he urges. “I really wanna do that…”

“You’re _sure_ you’re still up for cooking?” she asks, appraising the state of him and very aware of the rapid rate at which he’s going through the bottle of wine; she’s still only on her first glass and he’s already finished two.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s nothing fancy though, don’t get excited...”

“Ben, it doesn’t _need_ to be fancy. _You_ don’t need to be.”

Rey lifts on her toes to kiss him.

 _What are you cooking, anyway?_ she thinks, as her lips knead softly at his mouth.

 _Melts,_ he thinks back.

Rey draws away and smiles.

“That sounds delicious,” she says.

Rey takes Ben by the hand not holding the empty glass and leads him back to the kitchenette.

“What can I do to help you?”

“Um,” he says slowly, opening the fridge and loading his arms with ingredients.

He passes some of them out to her.

“Take those, find a knife, and cut them.”

“Handling weaponry,” she says, grinning. “I can do that.”

She starts to cut things on a cedar board.

“So, why would that be weird?” Rey asks.

“Why would what be weird?” Ben replies, bending down to turn on the grill.

“Why would it be weird to watch a feed from the forest on Takodana?”

“Are you serious?” he says, laying the last piece of bread on the grill tray.

“Yes,” she answers, handing him the board full of chopped things. “I think we should talk about that.”

Ben lays the chopped things across the slices of bread.

“Well, because I captured you there,” he says, sliding the grill tray under the element. “Isn’t that sort of awkward now?”

“No,” Rey replies, draining the rest of her wine as Ben reaches out to take the glass.

 _“What?”_ he says, frowning and pausing briefly before reaching for the bottle again. “Why not?”

“Well, because that’s where we first met, don’t you remember?”

“Well of course I fucking remember, I just thought you wouldn’t _want_ to remember.”

“Why not?”

“Well, because of what I said before.”

“That you captured me there?”

“Yeah,” Ben says, carefully re-filling their flutes.

“I don’t really remember that part, though,” Rey says vaguely, as tempting scents waft from the grill.

“Well, no, I guess you wouldn’t.”

“Why don’t I remember that part?”

“I think we should change the subject now,” Ben says.

“Why? Did you do something bad?”

“Well, I captured you.”

He’s set two plates on the bench. Rey watches him serve three melts on each and push one towards her.

“That smells _so_ fucking good,” she murmurs, putting her nose down close to the plate.

“Eat on the sofa?”

“Perfect,” she smiles, picking up her plate and glass and crossing the room.

“Ben?” Rey says, standing on the sofa.

Then she flops herself down, crosses her legs beneath and sets the plate in front of her, all while still holding her flute of blue wine.

“Yeah?” Ben answers, setting his plate down on the edge of the armrest and sitting next to her, spreading his knees and leaning back, glass also still in his hand.

“I think we both lacked a lot of social skills then,” she says, biting into the melt.

“Yeah, you think?” he says, doing the same.

They spend several minutes in a comfortable silence, just chewing and gazing at the view of the forest on the holoscreen.

“Do you think we’re getting better at that?” Ben asks, eventually.

“Social skills?” she says.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe,” she answers, setting her empty plate down on the floor. “Ben?”

“Mm?” he replies, chewing.

“Do you know much about absolutes?”

Ben swallows then sets his own plate on the floor and leans back, his half-empty glass still held aloft. He scratches his head.

“Is this what you wanted to talk about?”

Rey shifts on the sofa, snuggling closer to his body and drawing up her knees. Ben puts an arm around her shoulders, pulling her legs gently by the crooks of the knees and settling them across one of his open thighs. She shifts her glass to the hand closest to him, so her other one can touch at the skin of his bare chest. As she speaks, she strokes him there lightly in a gesture she hopes is reassuring.

“Ben, you don’t have to stay here for me,” she murmurs, as she gazes into his dark eyes, lit with soft golden flecks that reflect the candle light surrounding him. “Do you know that?”

“We’ve talked about this. It’s what _you_ want. You want me to be here.”

“Ben,” she murmurs. “Not if you _really_ don’t want to be.”

“I do want to be here, Rey,” he says quietly. “It’s just… not easy.”

“Sometimes,” she whispers. “When it might be easy… Do you think, Ben, that we could do this again?”

“I’ll try,” he whispers back, as she leans in to kiss him.

Rey feels the hand he’s placed around her shoulders move to the back of her head and his fingers work their way softly through her hair. Ben’s mouth kneads at hers. She closes her lips around his upper one and sucks at him there, as with eyes closed she relaxes into his mouth, and senses him finally settle. Gently, she pulls her mouth away, sets her glass on the floor and lays her head in his lap.

“This is sweet, Ben,” she whispers.

“Really sweet, Rey,” he whispers back, as she feels his fingers trail through her hair while they both gaze across at the view of the forest. “Like dessert.”

“Just like dessert,” Rey murmurs sleepily, as she closes her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, commenting, leaving kudos and just generally continuing to support this fic, I really appreciate it.
> 
> Special thanks to @mrsmancuspia for the motivation to edit this chapter. Superstar! :)


	78. Mindfulness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 21. Part 1 of 3. Ben.

It’s hot here tonight. Ben removes his cape, unfurls the heavy fabric and smooths it out across the ground. He unstraps the wide belt, shrugs off the quilted vest and folds each garment carefully, placing them at one edge of the makeshift rug he’s just made.

 _Rey,_ he thinks through the bond.

He sits down, knees bent with forearms resting across them. He laces his fingers and looks up at the darkening sky in the direction of the Nal Hutta system. It isn’t that far from this one. They’re kind of close.

_Ben?_

For three standard weeks now, he hasn’t spent much longer than a night without her, and he’s not about to change that. But in the early hours of this morning, as Rey slept soundly on his lap, Ben sensed something that still troubles him now. The Resistance will move soon.

 _What are you doing now?_ he thinks back.

Ben can’t sense when, and thinks that means Rey probably doesn’t know about it yet; he needs to ask her. He needs to know where she’s going. What if she’s going some place where Rebels have to share rooms? Or where it never grows dark? That would be a nightmare. What will they do then?

They’ll have no choice, then, but to use the apartment and that’ll mean seeing her a lot less than he does now. That’ll put nights and nights between them. That won’t be okay.

 _Getting ready for bed,_ he hears her think back through the bond. _You?_

There’s never enough time with her. It seems to run out so fast and that makes him anxious. She’d started to sense that last night; panic in him at the idea their time is always so limited, and he’s going to lose her somehow because of that. He knows it. He’s going to fuck all this up and smother her because the lack of time he has with her makes him feel pressured to do everything he wants to do all at once. He can’t relax.

 _Freaking out,_ he thinks back. _That’s what I’m fucking doing now._

Ben feels his stomach churn again and he takes a very deep breath as he stares at the Great Tree and listens to the breeze as it whispers its way through the Mysess Glade. The blossoms look black as the last of the light leaves the sky, and the tree in its center is a dense silhouette that looks even more ominous now than the first time he was here, when it had been later.

 _Again?_ he hears her think back. _Oh,_ _Ben, what the fuck is wrong now?_

As he watches, and the last rays of sun disappear, the sky over Kashyyyk turns a deep, navy blue. The blossoms slowly lighten as the sky goes black until his eyes adjust. The scene before him returns to its familiar grey as the stars over Kashyyyk brighten against the depths of space in which they burn far, far away. It’s easy to forget there’s a galaxy beyond this flat scene before him. It’s nice to forget that, actually. Really nice.

_Can you come to the glade? Please?_

Ben hopes she’s not on some watch or patrol tonight. That would really put a dent in this plan, another he hasn’t told her about. He sighs; that’s the crux of the problem. He’s no good at planning. If he’d had more time, or maybe if he’d had more presence of mind last night, instead of trying to impress her so much, he might have had the foresight to talk this through first. Or at the very least to _think_ this through first.

 _The Mysess Glade?_ she thinks back.

_Yes._

Ben drops one hand to the surface of the cape beneath him. He flattens his palm to feel its texture as he tries to take another deep breath. He’d always thought of this garment as smooth, but it’s made of synthetic hide and he notices now how there’s a kind of artificial weave to it. The texture is uniform, but it isn’t smooth at all. Raised areas catch at his skin, but they’re not rough. His hand can still glide across them. Maybe that’s why he’s always considered it smooth until now.

He shifts to his knees on the cape, leans forward and comes to rest on his stomach, bare since he removed the vest. He feels the cool of the cape against the surfaces of his body which now press against it. He shifts himself again, to the edge of it now, and rests his cheek on one forearm while extending the other out from his body to place the hand of that arm palm down on the surface of the earth.

Ben attempts to breathe slowly and think about his body. He starts with his feet, still booted. He notices how the cut of the footwear puts mild pressure on both Achilles when he lies with his feet at rest like this, with heels up. He shifts his knees so one bends a little. That takes the pressure off his right boot and he shifts his hips, too, settling his feet again. He notes now how that pressure of earlier is lessened, and more comfortable.

He turns his focus to his upper body and the bare skin pressed to the cape. It feels warm now. The fabric doesn’t breathe. Is it too warm? He lies there and senses the pores of the skin pressed flush against the synthetic garment, as they yearn for air to circulate around them. He rolls to his back and feels comparatively cooler as air now hits that same skin, and relieves the feeling of it being too hot.

Ben lifts his knees. His feet yearn to press flush to the ground, but when he applies pressure at the pads of his feet they don’t give in the stiff footwear, and he notes how the rear cuffs of his boots dig in at his mid-calves. He lies there like that for several breaths, feeling a sensation that’s not painful but certainly not comfortable either. Then he sits up.

He reaches forward and pulls off each weighty boot, lies back and lets his bare feet flatten against the surface of the cape. He curls his toes and notices the way the fabric shifts beneath them. That’s uncomfortable too. He stands and takes three paces, leaving the cape behind. Then he reclines on the bare floor of the forest’s edge, lifts his knees again and flattens his feet to the earthen floor.

Ben brings his arms up behind his head and closes his eyes. He starts again at his feet, noticing the way when he scrunches his toes now the dirt gives a little, flexing around him as though it’s fine with this arrangement; it likes his toes. He lifts his focus to his hips and shifts them again, as well as his heels, and that’s more comfortable too. Then he moves the attention to his shoulders, neck and head, and feels the way his hands cup the back of his skull. He adjusts his fingers, feeling his own hair as it falls softly around his ears.

“Ben?”

He opens his eyes. Rey stands at his feet.

“What are you doing?”

He takes another deep breath and slowly sits up.

“Just… relaxing.”

“You feel different…” she whispers, frowning down at him and he stands.

Ben takes a step towards Rey. He slips his hands around her waist and feels the tanned belt slung around her hips. The soft weave of her tunic is familiar. The band of her trousers is, too.

He leans in to kiss her on the mouth and feels her kiss back. Eventually he pulls his face away, their eyes meet and he watches her search his, and waits.

Rey’s mouth goes slack as she senses it.

“You’re _here,”_ she whispers, and tears fill her eyes when Ben smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the read, I really enjoyed writing this one. Thanks for the continued support for this fic. xx


	79. Playhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 21. Part 2 of 3. Rey.

“But you _can’t_ be here, Ben…” Rey whispers again.

“Can’t I?”

“How in the _fuck..?”_ she says, slowly.

“I told you, Supreme Leaders can swing shit like this, Rey, it’s part of the job…”

“Have you been seen?”

“No.”

“Well, how in the fuck do you know that for sure? I mean, how can you _really_ _know_ that, Ben?”

“I can sense it.”

“Tell me how you’ve done this,” she whispers.

“I thumbed a ride.”

“You _what?_ Don’t bullshit me, Ben…”

“I fucking flew, Rey, how else would I get here?”

“Well, where the fuck is it?” she says, searching.

“Where’s what?”

“Your _dick,_ Ben,” she retorts. “What do you think, _where’s the fucking ship?”_

“On the other side of the forest.”

“The _Black_ Forest?” she asks, horrified.

“No, this one, Rey.”

She narrows her eyes.

“You haven’t done that,” she says, quietly. “You’re lying. The Resistance would know if a ship, if _your fighter,_ had entered _this system…”_

“It’s cloaked, Rey, they don’t have a clue in the dark.”

“They can run scans, Ben, they probably already have. They will have _seen_ you and they’re probably already…”

“No, Rey, they have old tech.”

She frowns, offended by that.

“It’s _not_ old.”

“It’s certainly not new.”

“How the fuck would _you_ know? You’ve never spent any _time_ here, _looking_ at it.”

“Well, it’s on the Falcon, right? That’s all you’ve got, isn’t it? One ship, with _junk_ tech and a _junk_ scanner…”

Rey can feel it happening again, just like three nights ago when they’d fought in his exercise chamber and she’d said things to him that she hadn’t meant to, and that she couldn’t take back. She takes a deep breath and then releases it slowly, still gazing up into his dark eyes, which have narrowed significantly at her. She tries not to frown, and just for good measure she touches the tips of her fingers to the scar at his cheek, hoping to soothe him.

“How will you get home?” she asks, hoping her tone is gentle.

“Home?”

“Away… _back…_ to wherever you’ve come from?”

“The same way I got here, why does it matter?”

“Because I’m _worried_ about you, Ben, that’s why.”

“You don’t need to worry, Rey, I do enough of that for both of us…”

She glares at him. How dare he be so self-aware.

“You _can’t_ really be here Ben…,” she whispers, still in a state of sheer disbelief as concern grips at her heart. “What if you get _hurt?”_

“What if I’d got hurt all the times I _hadn’t_ really been here?”

“It’s not the same thing, Ben, and you know it.”

“It _is_ the same thing, Rey. It’s exactly the same thing, and _you_ know _that.”_

“You could still get hurt,” she murmurs.

“Won’t you protect me?” he whispers.

 _Fuck,_ she thinks.

“Of _course_ I will fucking protect you, you absolute _douche,”_ she breathes.

“Then,” he murmurs, pulling her closer. “What do I have to worry about?”

“Why are you here?” she breathes again.

“Because,” Ben says, brushing his lips against hers. “I love you and I miss you and I wanted to see you. To _really_ see you, Rey. And to spend _time_ with you. _Real_ time. _More_ time.”

“Ben, we spend _hours_ together…”

“Hours end,” he murmurs back.

“I know,” she says, as her fingers still trace at his cheek. “Nights only go for so long.”

“Time is always up somewhere,” he whispers.

Rey frowns.

“We’re moving, Ben” she breathes. “Did you already know?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know where we’re going,” she says. “Only that we are.”

“You _need_ to know,” he urges. “You _need_ to let _me_ know, Rey.”

“They don’t tell me anything,” she says.

“They _should,”_ he hisses. “You should be _leading_ them.”

She gives him a wry smile.

“No, Ben.”

“You _must_ tell me where you’re going, Rey.”

“I’ll know tomorrow, so will you.”

“That’s too late.”

“Ben, I _can’t…”_

“You _have to_ , what if…”

He trails off.

“What if _what?”_

“What if you’re going some place dangerous?”

“Ben, everywhere’s dangerous and besides, they wouldn’t do that…”

“Well, they wouldn’t _think_ they were doing it…”

“What do you mean?”

“All the major systems are controlled. In the Outer Rim, too. I assume that’s where they’ll go. To another, just like this.”

Rey frowns again. She has no fucking idea where the Resistance will go next.

“Therefore,” he continues, “I need to know where you’re going _before_ you go.”

“Why?”

“So the wrong people aren’t there waiting,” he murmurs. “Because people _are_ there, waiting for you, Rey, and the last of the Resistance. They haven’t forgotten. Three weeks is not a long time.”

“Do you think it’s hopeless?”

“Do I think what’s hopeless?”

“Everything, Ben.” she whispers, as fresh tears prickle at the corners of her eyes.

“No,” he whispers back. “It’s not hopeless.”

“But we have _nothing…”_

“You do have some things…”

“Ben…”

“I’ll help you, like you helped me…”

She wants to smile. She really does. Rey feels muscles twitch in her face. Her lips come together, but it’s a grimace, not a smile, and it’s not an expression she wants Ben to see. He does see it, though. His eyes cloud.

“You don’t want my help…”

“Of _course_ I fucking do,” Rey whispers. “Ben, I want so much more than just your help…”

The night has settled around them. It’s fairly indifferent, the night, as Rey’s come to realize now that she’s spent so much time out in it. It plays games and throws lures. For three standard weeks now it’s been pulling her off axis. She thought she knew Ben, and that he knew her. Backwards and forwards and very deep inside. But that was only ever a shadow of what’s here with her now in the dark.

Rey’s lips touch to his again and just like before it feels new. Like everything else was just the rehearsal and here they are now on the stage. When she arrived here she noticed his cape, a black expanse that absorbed all the light from the moons that by then had risen above the glade and lit it with silver. But Ben didn’t lie there, when she’d arrived, and he doesn’t lay her down there now, either.

Ben lays Rey down on the raw dirty earth and makes love to her there; not on a bed, or a sofa, or even a blanket. Just the ground, and Rey doesn’t care because he’s really there and everything here is now real. His mouth is real, and really on her. His tongue is really licking. And his cock is really fucking her long and slow while the soil clings to her back and small twigs and soft leaves work their way beneath the clothing he’s really undone around her.

As she feels Ben inside her, and hears him above her, Rey smiles at the moons and the stars in the sky. They’re in a playhouse and the system is witness. It has been for three weeks. Sometimes shrouded, sometimes severely inconvenient, like when it’s rained. But tonight, perhaps the night is not as indifferent as she’d thought it was earlier. Or callous. Tonight, when she gazes up, the night seems to smile back, as though it always knew this would happen. As though it brought him, and she supposes, in a way, it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this read, I must admit to crying my fucking eyes out writing it!
> 
> Thanks for the continued support for this fic x


	80. Just Like That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night 21. Part 3 of 3. Ben.

“You have,” she says, “One eye that’s slanted, Ben, did you know?”

He smiles up at her.

“Is that okay?” he asks, teasing.

“Yes.”

“You don’t mind?” he asks, again.

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“I _am_ sure, Ben, I don’t mind.”

 _“You_ have two eyes that aren’t slanted, Rey, and I don’t mind that either,” he says, still smiling. “They're both just fine.”

She grins down at him.

“Did you know,” she says, slowly, “That I didn’t even see one single Bantha on the way out here?”

Ben reaches up to curl several loose strands of her hair behind one of her ears, still smiling.

“Not even one?” he asks, only half feigning surprise.

“Nope,” she says happily, as she lies on her belly beside him, propped on her elbows. “Not even one single one, Ben.”

“Is that a proper sentence, Rey?”

“Shut up,” she whispers, still grinning. “Shut up, _Ben.”_

“They’re scared of that fucking lightsaber, I bet,” he grins back.

“They’re not _scared_ of it,” she says, hitting at his nearly bare chest lightly with the tips of her fingers in a mock telling off.

“Sure, they are, that’s a mean fuckin’ machine you got there, I’d be scared of it, too, if I was a Bantha.”

 _“You’re_ not scared of it,” she says, hitting lightly at his chest again.

“I am a little bit,” he admits.

He was shit-scared, actually.

“Are you _really?”_ she asks.

“It’s fairly intimidating,” he says, curling her hair behind her ear again. “As are you.”

Ben watches her beam at that while he pulls a small twig from her hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he says. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” she answers. “Are you?”

“I am a little bit that,” he says. “Why aren’t you hungry? You ate already?”

“Mm-hm.”

“What did you eat?” he asks again.

“Bantha steak,” she replies.

“Oh, _that’s_ why you didn’t see any Bantha on the way out here, you _ate_ them all…”

“I didn’t eat them _all…”_

“You did, they’re all gone…”

“They’re _not_ all gone.”

“They are, I can’t hear _any,”_ he says, still smiling. “They’re all in _your_ _belly.”_

“Stop it,” she says, grinning as he tickles at her waist. “Stop teasing me.”

“You like it,” he says, leaning up to kiss her, tickling some more and when she lifts up he rolls her over so she rests on her side and he can spoon her.

“I _do_ like it,” she says, as he tucks his thighs beneath hers and she wriggles her body into the curve he’s made for it.

“I know you do,” he says quietly, bringing his mouth close to her ear. “And you like _Bantha...”_

“I do,” she admits. “I like _eating_ them.”

“You like them in your full belly.”

“I do and I am  _not_ hungry now,” she says happily.

“I’m kind of hungry.”

“Did you bring any food?”

“No, but there are Shi-shoks over there. And I brought water.”

“Did you?” she says, looking back in surprise.

“Yeah,” he says, kissing her quickly as her mouth draws near when she cranes her neck back and looks at him. “It’s in there.”

He’d filled a canister.

“I don’t want anything but you Ben,” she smiles, as she nuzzles at his face with the tip of her nose.

She wriggles in his arms and turns the rest of her body in towards his again.

“This feels so different,” he murmurs, puzzled by it still as he wraps his arms more firmly round her, and kneads with his palms at the garments she still wears.

They’re filthy, he notices, covered in small pieces of bracken and leaves from the bare forest floor, on which they still lie. He watches Rey’s hand fiddle with the seam at the shoulder of his cowl, which is filthy too. Ben smiles and leans forward to kiss her forehead as he pulls another small twig from her hair.

“I know,” she whispers, still fiddling with the seam at the shoulder of his cowl then looking up at him, frowning. “It’s really strange…”

“I just need to look at you, Rey,” he whispers, as he gazes down into her hazel eyes, smiles at the frown and it melts away.

“Ben?”

“Yes?”

“Did you come here from the Moon?”

“Yes.”

“And where will you go after this?”

“Let’s not think about that now.”

“But what will you do in the morning?”

“Kiss you, like this,” he says, lifting her chin up and placing his open mouth on hers.

She kisses him back.

“Will you stay here?”

“I don’t know... Maybe... This does feel very good...”

 _“So_ different,” she murmurs, as she rolls over again and he pulls her in and re-tucks his thighs beneath hers.

“Like nothing else,” he breathes.

“Ben?”

“Mm?”

“How are you feeling _now?”_

He exhales a deep breath through his nose.

“Still pretty good,” he murmurs, snuggling his face into the back of her hair.

“You don’t feel anxious?”

He frowns, because he doesn’t feel that.

“No,” he says, suddenly aware of not just the fact he’s not feeling that but also that he’s not feeling that on Kashyyyk. “I don’t really feel any of all that right now, it's really weird...”

Just Rey’s feelings. That's all he's feeling. And just Rey’s body. He's feeling that, too.

“That’s good,” she whispers, wriggling into him as he pulls her closer.

“Are you cold?”

“No,” she whispers. “I just want to be closer to you.”

Ben smiles and breathes in the smell of her hair again.

“I don’t know if I can leave, Rey,” he repeats.

She wriggles around in his arms to face him once more.

“You don’t need to leave,” she says. “It’s still night time.”

“Yeah, but in the morning...”

They gaze at each other for a long time.

“You do know you can stay if you need to, don’t you?” she whispers.

Ben’s eyes flick around her face and then settle on her lips. They look soft. He’d like to kiss them again now. He leans in and brushes his lower lip against her top one.

“I saw something,” he breathes tentatively, hardly voicing it at all.

 _Show me,_ she thinks.

 _Yes, Mistress,_ he thinks back.

Ben watches the lights from the night sky above reflect in her eyes as he shows her, as though each contains a tiny star system; a world of her own in each wide pupil as they yearn to capture the lights reflected in his, and let them in.

“Can you see that?” he murmurs.

_“That?”_

“Yes, that.”

“Yes,” she whispers, frowning and seeing it too.

Ben smiles at her.

“When did you _…_?”

“Earlier,” he whispers. “When I was making love to you, and you were looking up at the moons,” he whispers.

Ben watches as tears fill her eyes again. He leans in and kisses her once.

“But it doesn’t mean it’ll _happen,_ Rey, visions don’t always _work_ like that…”

She leans in.

“Yes, they fucking do,” Rey says.

"Just like that, huh?" he teases.

 _Yes, Ben, you fuck,_ he hears her think as he beams into her kiss. _Of course they fucking do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more post to go...
> 
> Thanks for your continued support of this fic xx


	81. Finn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1. Part 1 of 1. Rose.

It’s charmed Rose every morning for the past three weeks and it’s got something to do with the air. There’s nothing quite like the sunrise on Kashyyyk; it’s always beautiful. But just sometimes, when there are still clouds in the earlier morning, or high fog, the light from the new day’s sun hits that just so, and the pollution that's swum in the upper atmosphere since Empire days fractures the light as it rises at dawn.

It’s like that this morning. And when it happens like that it only happens briefly, and it’s all the more beautiful because of it; because Rose knows it won’t last long but at the same time the same thing will happen again tomorrow morning. And the next. And also the one after that.

It’s a paradox that won’t stop; dawn always arrives and yet it’s always special. It’s always there, but you have to wake up early enough to see it, otherwise you’d never even know about what it really is; what really happens at the end of the night and at the start of each new day.

Rose leads Finn by the hand across the dewy groundcover.

“Finn?”

“Rose?”

“They’ll tell us today, right?”

“Right.”

“Where do  _you_  think it is?”

“Me?” he asks.

“Yeah,  _you,_  Finn,” Rose says, turning to smile at him over her shoulder as they make their way to the edge of the Black Forest.

“The Outer Rim.”

“You don’t think that’s sort of… obvious, or something?”

“Obvious? What do you mean?”

Rose turns back to the ground in front of her and smiles to herself. He is such a dummy.

“Obvious as in  _obvious,_  Finn,” she says. “The Outer Rim is  _known,_  don’t you think we’re going somewhere  _unknown?”_

“What, like… like, the Unknown Regions?”

“Sure, why not?”

“No way, Rose, that’s where the First Order is _._  That’s where the  _warships_  are, we won’t go there.”

Rose looks up at the sky through the canopy above them as it thins. It’s getting lighter, and the forest around them is brightening.

“Finn?”

“Yeah?”

She stops and turns to face him.

“Do you remember that time,” she starts, giving him a very wicked look, “A week ago?”

“Are you talking about that time when we were… and we pretended to be...?”

“Yes,  _that_  time,” Rose says, as she looks up at Finn and his eyes sparkle in that way she knows means he does remember exactly what she’s talking about.

Rose giggles.

“We could finish that now, there’s no one around, and we have a little bit of time before it starts _…”_

“You,” he says, pulling her closer. “Are my horny  _honey…”_

Rose feels Finn’s hands at the curves of her hips.

“I could just lie down here, Finn, and then  _you_  could just…”

“What was that?”

“What was what? Are you changing the subject?”

“No,” Finn says, bringing his hands to her cheeks and his face in close. “I am definitely _not_ doing that, but… did you hear that?"

Rose turns her head in the direction of the sound that she did hear clearly that time.

“Finn, it’s just a pair of Bantha.”

“A pair of...? _”_

“Bantha.”

 _“Holy_  shit…”

“Honey, calm down.”

“I am calm.”

“You are not calm right now.”

“I’m not, you’re right.”

“You know they’re vegetarians, right?”

“Vegetarians can still trample Rose, especially people.  _People,_  Rose.”

“They won’t trample us, Finn, if you don’t scare them. And right now? In this moment? You are scaring them.”

“It’s looking at me.”

“Because you’re  _scaring_  it,” she says, firmly. “Finn?”

“What?”

“What’s that over there?”

“Oh, don’t start that shit.”

“What shit?”

 _“That_ shit,” he says, shaking his head at her, and pointing his finger. “I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?”

“You’re trying to distract me,” he says. “So I don’t even  _look_  at the Bantha.”

 _“What?_  I’m not doing that,” she says, as she pulls affectionately at his earlobe in the way she knows he likes. “I’m not doing that at  _all.”_

“I think you are,” he whispers, as she runs her hand from his ear to the nape of his neck and gently coaxes his face down towards hers.

Finn drops the wagging finger in submission, and the hand it belongs to finds her waist instead.

“I’m definitely not doing that, honey,” Rose breathes.

She kisses his mouth and Finn kisses back while the Bantha retreat to the cover of the trees.

After some time, Rose draws her mouth away.

“Come on,” she breathes, looking to the sky. “This is the best part, I don’t want you to miss it, I'm so glad Rey showed me how to get here...”

Rose leads Finn by the hand to the edge of the Kkowir Forest as he looks up at the new sun’s light. It splits as it travels through the particles in the air, defracting its full spectrum of color across the sky above the Mysess Glade.

 _“Oh…,”_  Rose coos, stopping suddenly and gripping Finn by the arm.

“What? What is it? I  _really_  hope it’s not more Bantha...”

“Isn’t that sweet?” she whispers.

Finn frowns, still unsure of what she sees and Rose points.

“Look,” she whispers again, not wanting to wake Rey, where she still lies on the ground sound asleep. “And her Force-user.”

“And her  _what?”_

“Her Force-user."

“What Force-user, Rose?”

 _“That_  one,” she whispers again, pointing. “Look, see? Over there?”

She steps forward and leads Finn by the hand for several more paces as they creep together over the grass.

“I’ve been covering for them for weeks, and I probably shouldn’t tell you, but it’s  _love,_  you know? This is such a shitty war…”

Rose feels Finn stop when he finally sees. One hand pulls her down hard to the ground as the other reaches for his blaster. Frowning, she crouches there with him.

“Finn?” Rose whispers, her gaze flicking from him to the place where Rey lies asleep in the arms of her lover.

_“Rose…”_

She frowns at the tone in his voice.

“What?”

“You don’t know who that is, do you?”

Rose frowns as Finn's anxious eyes flick from her to Rey and back again.

“Of course I don’t know, Rey never told me,” she whispers.

“What the fuck did you say before?” Finn murmurs, still staring at the intimate scene they’ve stumbled across, and curling his fingers anxiously around the butt of the blaster.

“What?”she whispers. “When?”

 _“Before,”_  Finn hisses. “What the fuck did you say  _before?”_

“What do you mean?

“Rose,  _please,”_  he begs. “About  _Rey…”_

She frowns again. What isn’t he telling her?

 _Think,_ she urges herself, as she searches his troubled face.  _Fucking think_.

“About  _love,_  Rose,” Finn prompts, so softly she has to strain her ears just to hear him. “What did you say before about  _love?”_

Rose stares at him, his hand still with a mind for the blaster and at last it starts to dawn on her.

“You _do_ know _,”_ she whispers, very slowly as she stares into his honest eyes which are full of fear, but something else as well. “You  _do_  know who that is, don’t you, Finn?”

“Yes,” he whispers back. “So please _tell_  me, Rose… _”_

She puts her hand to the one of his at the weapon, and strokes his skin gently with the tips of her fingers.

“I said before,” Rose murmurs, “That it’s  _love_ , honey _,_ between Rey and her Force-user. She _told_ me. Like what you and I have, you know? It's just the same... how, like, sometimes I save you from the trampling vegetarian Bantha... or how, sometimes, you get things for me, special things… and  _all_  the times I do that thing you like, when we pretend to be...  _you_  know.”

Rose smiles when Finn gives her the smallest inkling then of one, even though his eyes are still full of anxiety and his hand is still poised at the butt of the blaster.

She looks again at Rey, sleeping soundly on the earth in the arms of the pale, scarred man she’s only ever seen twice. His chin rests at the crown of Rey’s head and his arms, even in sleep, are folded around her so near that not even breath itself could squeeze its way between them.

Rose smiles again at how peaceful they look where they sleep together there in the dirt, as her fingers continue to stroke the skin at the back of Finn’s hand until she thinks she feels him begin to relax his hold around the butt of the blaster.

“Who _is_ he, Finn?” she asks, gently. “Honey, what's his _name?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .  
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>  THE END! Holy shit! XD
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this fic. I know that sentence is just a bunch of letters and me hitting the space bar numerous times and then the full stop key once, but I *really* fucking mean it. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has ever left a comment on this fic and you (very very special and generous people) know who you are! You’ve probably heard this a million times but I just can’t tell you how much it means when someone shares an idea back with you in response to your work. It feels amazing. Thank you for all those ideas you’ve shared back, no matter how stupid you thought they were at the time, I am so grateful for them.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who’s left kudos on this work. It means a lot that you do that!
> 
> Thank you for just reading the whole thing or a little bit of the thing. If you didn’t like it, thanks for giving it a try!
> 
> Thank you for subscribing! It’s meant heaps that the subscriptions have remained so constant even when I’ve really fucked up chapters and had to re-post them like a thousand times. Thanks for putting up with my inability to fucking edit my own work properly!
> 
> Thanks for waking up every day! You rock! This fic was mostly written during bouts of anxious sleeplessness. Nights really are hard to get through sometimes, and days really can seem far, far away in those hours. Just keep breathing.
> 
> Now that the final night is posted, I just wanted to reflect on the final 3 chapters, because at the time of posting I didn’t wanna spoil…
> 
> 79\. Rey’s final POV. I just wanted for Rey to be happy. And I really did feel that she deserved for Ben to actually fucking go there and physically be with her for awhile. Plus he had to go in order for the Finnlo ending to work. TBH I don’t give a shit about SW minutia. I wrote this fic because I just wanted to know what these characters were thinking and feeling. I really hope that at the end of this chapter it’s clear that Rey’s not just helped Ben start to put his past behind him, but she’s also done that for herself. She’s selfless. Damnit. So what?? WTF is so wrong with that? It’s okay to put yourself first if it means that because you do you’re better for other ppl. And I hope at the end of this chapter we're left with the idea that she is more able to be there for Ben because she has spent so long acknowledging and exploring her own desires.
> 
> 80\. Ben’s final POV. I just imagined the sappiest post-coital convo anyone’s ever had, like the soppiest stuff you say to the person who you gave your virginity to and when you know absolutely no one else is listening, and it really is almost like you’re a different person in those minutes, and yet you're completely yourself. I just wanted him to be happy, too, which I felt meant ending it with him being kissed, held and chastised affectionately by Rey. He’s hers, she’s been saying that since Chapter One! He’ll always have unresolved issues, just like Rey, but when he’s with her they don’t seem so bad. His family conflicts remain unresolved but whose aren’t, for fuck's sake! lol
> 
> 81\. Goes out to all the Finnlos. I had this idea weeks ago and have been sitting on it for so long it’s so fun to finally be able to share it! I love Finn so much. I think about that early seen in TFA when Ben/Kylo doesn’t kill him for not killing the civilians soooo much. They have to do something Finnlo in epix, right??? I tried writing this from Finn's POV but it just didn't work. But Rose is just as significant as Finn and I'm just so glad anyway to be able to write this ending from her POV. She is so important in the ST and to Finnlo. Originally I thought of this chapter as an epilogue, but it isn’t. I think it’s a huge part of the story and we’ve heard from Rose throughout this fic so that’s another reason why I felt it was actually the conclusion to this secret love affair (and the beginning of a full-on proper one!?) that Rey and Ben have had on Kashyyyk for these past three weeks since Crait.
> 
> Finally (and if you’re still reading this I’m glad I’m still typing it) there will be at least one epilogue between now and epix. Stay subscribed to see the update and there may be more than one, I’m not quite sure yet.
> 
> If you are on tumblr I am @jesssssah and would love to hear from you in regards to ideas you've had in response to this fic, prompts for epilogues or just drabbles about your day. Why not?!
> 
> I have some other fics planned for the next little while, look out for them, and please share yours with me!
> 
> May the Force be with you always, dear readers!
> 
> Lots and lots of love,  
> Jessa xx


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